The Bad, the Italian, and the Good
by pingo1387
Summary: Feliciano Vargas-Edelstein continues his high school experience with junior year. Human!AU, high school. Same pairings as previous story. Mainly Feli's perspective, switches to other characters occasionally. Cover by MoritoAkira.
1. The Return, the Reunion, and the Reveal

**This is, of course, the sequel to ****The Good, the Bad, and the Italian****. If you haven't read that story, please do so here before reading this one:**

**/s/8716111/1/The-Good-the-Bad-and-the-Italian**

**And now that you've done that, back to this story! We're continuing the story with junior year, so we've got new classes and new relationships :) I've got some stuff planned for this year, and it looks to be an interesting one! A few backstories, a few situations . . . it's gonna be fun!**

**Before you even say it - yes, I am ****_creative_**** when it comes to chapter titles. Hold your applause, please.**

* * *

><p>"Feli . . . Feli, wake up!"<p>

I turned over on my side, opened my eyes, and said, "What's going on, Eliza?"

She appeared a little bit blurry, so I blinked until my vision focused. She smiled and said, "Feli, you've got to go to school today. First day, remember?"

I sat up, suddenly wide awake. "I forgot!" I gasped, flinging back the covers. "Am I late?"

"No, don't worry, you've got—" she looked at my clock. "—about a half hour before you have to go."

"Oh, okay," I said, relieved. I lay back down, pulled the covers over my head, and shut my eyes.

"Feli!" Eliza said with a laugh. "Don't you want time for breakfast?"

"Okay," I mumbled, sitting up again. "I'll get my uniform on . . ."

"Make sure that you have all your things, too."

When I came downstairs, Eliza was cooking at the stove and stepfather was reading the paper at the table. "Good morning, Feliciano," he said, briefly glancing up. "Did you sleep well?"

"Morning, stepfather!" I said, sitting down. "Yeah, I slept great!"

Eliza brought two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon to the table.

"Thanks, stepmother!" I said happily.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," stepfather said, not looking up from his paper.

By the time I finished eating, it was time to go, so I grabbed my backpack, said goodbye to Eliza and stepfather, and went out the door.

It was a lot shorter getting to school than I thought it was. I arrived and looked at the schedule I had gotten in the mail a few days ago. My first class was Algebra, so I went to find it.

I reached the classroom, went in, and saw Al looking around at the desks. He looked up when he saw me and grinned.

"Hey, Feli!" he yelled. He was next to me before I noticed that he had moved and gave me a hug. "How was your summer, dude?"

"It was good!" I said. "How was yours?"

"It was _super_," he said, letting go and looking me up and down. "Is it just me, or did you get a little tan?"

"Yeah!" I said. "You got tan too!"

He laughed. "Yep! Me and my family went to the beach and Mattie and I swam a bunch!"

"Did you go on dates with Mei?" I asked, remembering that they were going out.

"Yeah!" he said, brightening suddenly. "She says that her dad _really_ wants to meet me, so I gotta go over there for dinner real soon! Gil actually came over and met our parents, and they liked him, so Mattie's happy about that. And Mattie went over to Gil's house for dinner, and Gil's dad likes him, so Gil's happy about that too!"

He said all of this very fast. "That sounds cool!" I said. "Lovi and Toni have been really busy this summer, so I haven't seen them a bunch, but we'll have lunch together so we'll see them then!"

"Oh yeah, Artie and his bros came over for dinner once," Al remembered. "Colin and James—they put something in Artie's food and he had to drink like five glasses of water." He grinned. "I like those guys."

"His brothers?" I asked. "What about his parents?"

"Oh," Al said, his smile fading a bit. "Well, Artie's mom—my dad's sis—she died when Artie was young. I think Mattie and me were six. And his dad got hit by a car while Aunt Lily was carrying Artie, so . . . yeah. Anyway, a bunch of stuff happened, and now Artie's oldest stepbro is taking care of the whole family."

"Oh, that's sad," I said quietly. "Poor Artie."

"Yeah," Al agreed. "But hey, the family's doing good, so I guess everything's fine with him! Have you seen Ludwig at all this summer?"

"Not really," I admitted.

"Oh, good god, I'm stuck with you."

We turned to see Francis coming through the door.

"Hey!" Al yelled. "Whaddya mean 'stuck with you'? What's wrong with Feli?"

"What?" I said. "Y-You don't like me?"

"Yeah, Francis, what the hell!"

"Oh, for—I meant _you_, Alfred!" Francis snapped. He smiled at me. "Hi, Feli."

"Oh, you meant him," I said. "Hi!"

"Okay, what the hell!" Al yelled. "What's wrong with _me_?"

"You're annoying!" Francis exclaimed. "You move and speak much too quickly!"

"What? I just move like I always do!"

"That's exactly the problem!"

The bell rang and we all went to sit down.

* * *

><p>For second period I had world history and Herc and Kiku were in my class. They had had a good summer too. In third, English, I met with Lovi, who shoved me off when I tried to hug him.<p>

Finally it was lunchtime. I had bought my lunch and was looking around for my friends. I eventually saw Ludwig at a table and went over to join him.

"Hi, Ludwig!" I said, hugging him when I reached him. "Did you have a good summer?"

He hugged me back. "Hello, Feliciano—I had a good summer, yes. How was yours?"

"It was great!"

"There you guys are!" I looked up to see Gil dragging Matt over to the table. "Hey, Feli!"

"Hi!" I said. "Did you guys have a good summer? Al told me that you both went over to each others' houses for dinner!"

"Yeah, that was cool," Gil said, sitting down with Matt. "Mattie's parents are awesome, and _Vati_ likes Mattie, so everything's awesome."

"Hi, Feli," Matt said quietly. "How was your summer?"

"It was great!"

"Well," said Artie, sitting next to Al, "judging by your tans, you all had a fun summer."

"Hi, Artie!" I said. "Yeah, it was good!"

"Ah, our resident bookworm," Francis said with a smile. "I hardly saw you at all this summer, Arthur."

"Your point?" Artie said in a bored voice. "Besides, I've been rather busy."

"With what?"

"Oh . . . research."

Toni and Lovi found us and sat down. "Hi, everyone!" Toni exclaimed. "Lovi and I had a great summer! How was yours?"

"Yeah, if you can call lifting boxes great," Lovi grumbled.

"Hi, Toni!" I said.

"Does anyone mind if I sit here?"

We all looked up to see Mei Wang standing next to the table with a lunch tray.

"Mei!" Al yelled. He stood and grabbed her in a hug. "How was your summer, beautiful?"

"It was good," she said. "I'm glad I got to see you!"

She sat next to him, taking his enthusiasm as an invitation.

"Where are Hercules and Kiku?" Artie asked, looking around. "I haven't seen them today."

"They're here," I said. "I saw them in history."

"Oh, there they are," Toni said, looking towards the cafeteria doors, where Kiku and Herc were coming in. They came over to our table and sat down.

"Hello, everyone," Kiku said. "I'm sorry that we're late. Hercules fell asleep at the end of the third class, so I waited with him until he woke up."

"Yeah . . . it's my fault," Herc said sleepily. "Sorry."

"It's okay, dude!" Al said.

"How was—were your summers?" Kiku asked.

"Great," Al said. "Kiku, your English has gotten better!"

"Ah, thank you, Alfred-_kun_."

"Anyway, Lovi and I had a great summer," Toni repeated, putting an arm around Lovi and kissing him on the cheek.

Everyone stared at them.

"You two are—?" Matt said in surprise.

"About time!" Gil yelled. "Congrats!"

"Shut up," Lovi snapped.

"Wait, are you two _dating_?" I asked.

"Yeah," Lovi muttered. "It just kinda happened."

"Ah," Francis said, suddenly smirking. "You two are an item now—and you only have one bed in your apartment, correct?"

Lovi turned red. "Oh my _god_, you fucking _pervert_!" he yelled. "Don't imply things like that!"

"He's just teasing, Lovi," Toni said reassuringly.

I suddenly understood what they were talking about. "Oh!" I exclaimed. "You think they're having sex!"

Al choked on his milk and Gil cracked up.

"Feliciano," Lovi growled. "You are not helping _anything_."

"Sorry . . ."

"Congratulations," Mei said softly. Toni smiled at her and Lovi looked away.

We all happily ate our lunches and chatted until the bell rang for fourth period.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**Vati = Dad**


	2. The Gym, the Photoshop, and the Warning

My next class, Painting II, passed by very quickly. We all practiced painting a still-life—a vase of flowers in the middle of the room.

In fifth period, I finished changing and walked out of the locker room. Almost immediately I spotted Ludwig in the gym.

"Hi!" I called. He turned, saw me, and waved.

"Feliciano!" he said with a smile. "How has your day been going?"

"It's great! How's yours?"

"Just fine," he said.

"Are you taking painting again this year?" I asked. "I didn't see you in my class."

"Ah . . ." he said. "I'm not. I really don't have a talent for painting, and I have other classes I need to take."

"Aw, I thought you were improving," I said, "but if you don't wanna do it, then okay."

The gym teacher, Mr. Hobson, made us run a few laps around the track outside. I wasn't good at running, so it was really hard for me.

"Feliciano, pick up the pace," Ludwig said, slowing down to come back to me. "Really, a few laps are nothing you shouldn't be able to handle."

"I . . . don't like . . . running . . ." I panted, slowing down more.

"You'd better learn to like it in this class," he said sternly.

After what felt like an eternity, class ended and we went back to change before the bell rang.

When I went into my sixth period, Computer Graphics, Al was already there, sitting in the back row. "Feli!" He yelled, causing the teacher to give him an annoyed look. "Dude, I didn't know you were in this class!"

"Hi, Al!" I said. "I didn't know you'd be here either!"

"Awesome, we can have a party!"

We turned to see Gil entering the class. "Hey, guys!" he exclaimed, earning another annoyed look from the teacher. "You guys are awesome, I'm glad you're in this class too!"

Eventually the bell rang and we all sat together in the back row. The teacher, Mr. Wang, told us about the class and said that we'd practice using Photoshop today.

"Okay, Alfie, hold still," Gil muttered. Al looked up at him and Gil snapped a picture with his phone.

"Hey!" Al protested. Gil snickered, did something with his phone, and then looked at his email on the computer, where he had sent the picture of Al to himself. He dragged it into Photoshop and started playing around for a few minutes.

"Ta-dah!" He said, turning the monitor to us. He had given Al a really long tongue sticking out of his mouth, eyeballs all over his face, and colored his hair green.

"Nice," Al muttered, snickering. "I get to do you next."

"You're really good at that!" I said, looking at the picture.

"Thanks, Feli! Hey, hold still—" before I could do anything, he took a picture of me.

"Gil, you're next!" Al took a picture of Gil.

"I wanna try too!" I exclaimed, reaching over to my backpack to dig my phone out.

"Oh, this is great," Al said a few minutes later. He showed us the picture of Gil he had taken; he had given him a handlebar mustache and long ears.

"You're so creative," Gil said jokingly. "Feli, this is you—" he turned his monitor towards me. He had made my eyes very large and turned my hair blue.

I laughed. "Cool!"

"Feli, what'd you do with us?" Al asked, leaning over to look at my screen. "'cause you took pictures of our whole bodies, not just a headshot—whoa."

I had given Gil a spacesuit and a gun, and turned Al green and given him antennae. They were on the moon and having a space battle.

"That is _awesome_," Gil said. "I look so cool!"

"Why the hell am I an alien!?" Al demanded. "I mean I look cool and all, but am I the bad guy!?"

"I dunno," I said.

"How the hell did you _do_ this on your first day!?" Gil exclaimed.

"I just played around with stuff until I figured it out," I said. "Why?"

"Because you're great at this," Al said.

"Thanks!"

"Feli, send it to me, I wanna save that picture."

The bell rang and we packed up, stood, and left. Gil and Al went for their bus and I waved goodbye as I headed down the sidewalk.

"Feli!" Eliza said as I came in. "How was your day?"

I heard stepfather practicing his piano.

"It was good," I said. She led me to the kitchen table and started fixing a snack.

"How's everyone doing?" She asked. "Is Lovi doing okay?"

"He's fine!" I said quietly. "He and Toni are dating now."

Her eyes widened and she smiled. "Oh, that's _wonderful_! I hope they're happy together!"

I nodded. "They seem happy!"

She brought some sliced fruit to the table. "Feli, listen," she said quietly. "Are any of your other friends . . . do you have any other friends who are boys dating boys?"

I nodded. "Gil and Matt are going out."

"I hate to ask, but . . . could you refrain from mentioning that to your stepfather?"

"Why?"

"He doesn't really—approve of that kind of thing," she said.

"Why?" I asked. "What's wrong with it?"

She sighed. "I don't see anything wrong with it, but some people think it's . . . wrong. Anyway, just—please don't mention it to him."

"Okay," I said quietly.

She smiled. "Thanks, Feli."


	3. The Romans, the Notes, and the Book

"As you can see here, according to legend, Rome was founded when Remus and Romulus, the twins raised by wolves, fought over the name; Remus killed Romulus accidentally and named the city in his brother's honor. Keep in mind that this is only a legend and has no basis in historical findings other than stories passed down . . ."

Ms. Burton, the history teacher, was talking about the info on the PowerPoint slide on the screen.

"They were raised by wolves?" I whispered to Herc.

He shrugged. "That's what . . . the story says."

"Wow," I whispered. "I wonder how they learned to speak English?"

He looked at me. "They probably didn't . . . since the ancient Romans . . . spoke Latin, right?"

"Oh, yeah."

Kiku, next to Herc, seemed to be concentrating on copying down the information while listening to the teacher.

"Now," Ms. Burton continued, clicking to the next slide, "Rome was at first ruled by kings and called the Roman Kingdom. However, the people grew tired of being ruled by tyrannical kings and overthrew their rulers, after which the Roman Republic was established along with the Roman Empire."

"What do these words mean?" Kiku whispered to Herc, showing him what he had written.

"Hm . . ." Herc looked over. "This one is about a tyrant . . . a tyrant is a leader who . . . uses his power to be unfair . . . and cruel."

Kiku wrote it down.

"And this one . . . means that they got rid . . . of the rulers."

"Thank you," Kiku said quietly.

Ms. Burton kept going through slides, talking about aqueducts and how the Roman Empire kept growing.

"How could something so big be gone now?" I whispered.

Herc shrugged. "The bigger they are . . . the harder they fall. Rome . . . got too big. But . . . Italy's still around."

"The Roman Empire became two empires," Kiku said quietly. "The east one was named the—_Bizanchin_ Empire . . . ?"

"Byzantine," Herc whispered.

"Thank you."

"You guys are really smart," I whispered.

"I studied the Roman Empire before," Kiku explained. "I don't remember a lot of details."

"Feliciano, Hercules, Kiku, stop that chatting," Ms. Burton snapped at us. We shut our mouths and started writing notes again.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Lovi!" I exclaimed as I walked into English. "Guess what? We learned about the Roman Empire in history!"<p>

"Uh, Feliciano?" he said. "No offense, but I don't give a shit."

"And Kiku and Herc already knew a bunch of stuff!" I continued, setting my stuff down.

"Yeah, great," he said.

"And there were these twins who were raised by—"

"Feliciano."

"What?"

"I really don't care. Besides, I have that class first thing, so I already learned about it."

"Oh."

The bell rang and Ms. Kim started teaching us about famous authors in the 19th and 20th centuries. She talked about H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, L. Frank Baum, and J.D. Salinger.

Near the end of class she gave us an assignment. "Now, I want you all to read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum. Since so many people wanted him to write more, he wrote several sequels to it, but we won't be reading them in class." She passed out the books. "And _don't_ think you can get away with watching the movie."

There was some muttering and snickering at this.

"I mean it," she said sternly. "If I found out that you watched the movie and didn't read the book, I'm taking a point off of your grade."

"I hate reading for class," I complained to Lovi. "It's a lot more fun to read books that you pick out by yourself."

"I dunno," he said, shrugging. "I like picking out books by myself, but I might never have read this book if not for class. Anyway, the discussion points out things that I probably missed."

I shrugged. "I might just watch the movie, if Eliza can get it on the TV . . ."

"Seriously, don't," he said. "Have you ever read a book and then seen the movie?"

"No."

He sighed. "Remember when we saw the Harry Potter movie with _nonno_?"

I nodded.

"I read the book and the movie was actually pretty good about sticking to it, but it did leave a lot of stuff out. Point is, mostly based on what I've heard, movies either leave out stuff from the books or change a bunch of things."

"Who've you heard it from?" I asked curiously.

He sighed. "Arthur. He says that the movies were good but they don't do the books justice. He also was really pissed about how they changed the ending to the entire series in the last film."

"Why would they do that?"

"I don't know, they're fucking stupid. I'm not watching the movies anytime soon."

The bell rang.


	4. The Run, the Detective, and the Beer

In gym we did laps around the track again, and again I started falling behind. Ludwig slowed his pace to be next to me.

"Feliciano, come on now," he said impatiently. "You can do it."

"I still . . . don't like running . . ." I gasped. I sat down on the grassy field. "Leave me behind . . . keep going . . ."

He tapped my head. "Don't be so dramatic. Get up."

"No . . ."

He grabbed my arms and quickly stood me up.

"Hey!"

"If you don't run, you'll get points taken off." He started running again, leaving me behind.

"Don't leave me," I cried, running after him until I had caught up.

"See, you _can_ run."

"Oh . . ." I gasped, slowing down again. "So tired . . ."

"Feliciano!"

About halfway through class we stopped doing laps and were allowed to hang around and chat with people. I flopped onto the grass and stared up at the sky. Then I saw Ludwig appear over me, staring down.

"Hi," I said, gasping for air.

He sat down next to me. "You realize that we were running for only about half an hour, right?"

"But it felt like _so long_," I complained.

"If you exercised more, you'd be stronger," he said sternly.

"I'd rather drive places," I said.

"I got my license a while ago," he said, "but I didn't know you had yours . . ."

"I don't," I replied cheerfully. "I've taken the test about five times but I keep failing it."

". . . Why?"

"'cause I keep going over the speed limit. I'm gonna try again in a week."

He looked up and sighed.

"Hey," I said, remembering. "Did you find the girl you like yet?"

He looked down now. "No. I just . . . I haven't had any luck at all. I wish I had enough money to hire a detective."

"Ooh, that'd be cool!" I said. "Detectives are really smart! Last night Eliza and I watched Sherlock when stepfather was out! I didn't really get everything that he was saying but it sounded cool!"

He stared at me.

"What?"

* * *

><p>In Computer Graphics, Mr. Wang told us all that for a few days we were gonna design a logo. He said that it could be for anything we wanted and then he told us to get to work, took out a book, and started reading.<p>

"Fuckin' lazy teacher," Gil mumbled. He pulled out a copy of the tutorial book and started skimming the contents.

"I'm gonna make my own logo," Al said, pulling up Photoshop.

"Yeah, that's the _assignment_, idiot," Gil said, smirking.

"I mean—I'm gonna make up something to make a logo for!" Al said. "I'm, like, not gonna use something that's already a thing, like Burger Lord or Scarlet Finch!"

"Whatever," Gil said, putting down the book and opening the program.

Al scowled. "Whatever . . . your _face_. Feli, what're you gonna do?"

"I dunno," I said, shrugging. "We have a few days, so maybe we don't have to do it right away . . ."

"Hey, yeah!" Gil said, pushing his keyboard away.

"Awesome!" Al exclaimed, closing the program. "Let's just party back here!"

"I brought beer," Gil said cheerfully, pulling out a cardboard box from his backpack. He handed me and Al a can each.

"Isn't alcohol not allowed?" I asked.

"No, wait, this is root beer," Al said, examining his can and laughing.

Gil snickered. "Yeah, but it's still good."

"Hey!" Mr. Wang called, looking over his book. "You three, no drinks in the computer lab!"

Gil scowled and shoved the cans back in his backpack. Al and I put ours away too.

"Stupid rule," Gil muttered. "Not gonna spill it or anything."

"I guess food is out too," Al sighed.

Gil rolled his eyes. "Well, you eat so quickly I doubt he'd notice before it was gone."

Al blinked. "Quickly?"

"Never mind."


	5. The Drive, the Concern, and the Question

"Feli?"

I looked up from my bed. I had been trying to read The Wonderful Wizard of Oz but it was really hard to get started so I had put the book aside.

Eliza smiled. "Your stepfather's busy scheduling concerts right now. Do you want to take the car out and get some driving practice done before your test?"

"Okay," I agreed, jumping up. I followed her outside and got in the car. It took me a second to realize that I had forgotten the keys.

Eliza slid into the passenger seat and handed me the keys. I gave her a sheepish smile and started up the car after checking the seat height and mirrors.

"So where are we going?" I asked as I started going down the street.

"I need to go to the store," she said. "I need to get more fruit and veggies, and some bread, and pasta for when your stepfather isn't home . . ."

"Pasta!" I exclaimed happily.

"Feli, you're going too fast again," she scolded. I hastily took my foot off of the pedal to slow down. Eliza turned on the radio and a song was playing that I didn't recognize.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Slow down!" she said. I quickly took my foot off of the pedal again. "I love this song! It's called 'Running in the '90s'."

"Oh, I've never heard it before," I said, coming to a sudden halt as the stoplight turned red.

"I'm not surprised," she said wryly. "Most of the music you hear must come from your stepfather, and hell will freeze over the day _he_ plays a modern song."

After a moment of silence she sighed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to sound like that . . ."

"It's okay," I said cheerfully.

"Feli, you need your turn signal on."

As I turned into the parking lot of the plaza, I commented, "Lovi and Toni don't live too far from here, I think."

"Really?" she said.

I nodded. "They walk and bike everywhere and Toni mentioned that they get groceries once a week, so I think they live close to here."

I finished parking and we got out of the car.

"They're doing alright, aren't they?" Eliza said in a worried tone.

"Yeah," I said cheerfully. "I mean, I think so. Lovi doesn't tell me much, but he doesn't complain a lot."

She glanced at me.

"I mean . . . he complains a lot less than he would if things were bad," I said.

"He always was pessimistic," she said fondly. "Oh, Feli, you can pick out the pasta."

"Yay!"

* * *

><p>I got us out of the parking lot without bumping into anything. When we reached the stoplight and I brought us to a sudden halt again, Eliza waited a moment before speaking.<p>

"Feli?" she said hesitantly.

"Hm?"

She looked up. "Do you ever . . . get nervous while driving . . . ?"

"All the time," I admitted.

"Ah," she sighed. "I was only thinking—after what happened to Reg—I mean, your grandpa—"

I bit my lip. "I think about that a lot . . . when I'm driving, actually . . ."

"I'm sorry, I don't want to upset you," she said quickly.

"No, it's okay," I said. "I just have to be extra careful and not get too nervous . . . anyway, _nonno_ didn't do anything wrong, right? I remember I heard it was the other person's fault . . ."

"That's right," she said. "Your grandpa was always a good driver . . . he sometimes went too fast, but a good driver otherwise. A very kind and funny man . . ."

"Yeah," I said cheerfully. "He could always make me laugh."

The light turned green and I moved us forward.

"Hey, Eliza?" I said. "Do you know what happened to _nonna_?"

"Your grandma?" she asked. "Well . . . don't tell your stepfather this, because I don't think he knows, and that's better for everyone . . ."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Your grandpa was bisexual," she explained. "It means that he liked both men and women. He loved your grandma, but when your dad was grown up, she found out that he was bisexual and she left him."

". . . Oh," I said quietly. "Why would she leave him 'cause of that?"

"She was like your stepfather," Eliza said. "She thought that it was wrong."

"That still seems like a really dumb thing," I said. "Because . . . it doesn't really matter, right?"

Eliza smiled. "That's the kind of thinking your generation needs."

I pulled back into our driveway.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**nonno = grandpa**

**nonna = grandma**


	6. The Meet, the Walk, and the Birds

**So uh, this chapter and the two after it take place in mid-October.**

**Narrator: Matthew**

* * *

><p>I waited on the street corner where Gil and I had agreed to meet. Not long after I got there, I saw Gil coming down the street. When he reached me, he stopped and grinned.<p>

"Hey, Mattie!" he said cheerfully, his breath coming out in small clouds. "You weren't waiting long, right?"

I shook my head. "Not long, no. What're we doing today?"

He froze in the act of scratching his head and seemed to be thinking. "Uh . . . I dunno."

"What?"

He grinned. "I . . . I didn't really think of anything to do."

I sighed. "Well, that's okay. We can think of something . . ." I looked around and pointed to the woods a little ways off. "How about we . . . um . . . take a walk in the woods, and then . . . go to that café in town?"

He glanced over at the woods.

"Uh—sure," he said after a moment. "That—that sounds good. Yeah."

I looked at him, worried. "I-If you don't want to, that's okay . . ."

"No, no, it's fine," he said. "I just—let's go."

We started off down the street, heading for the woods.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, noticing that he was looking around as if expecting something to jump out. "We can turn back . . . it's not a big deal . . ."

"Nah, it's okay," he muttered, still looking around. "Maybe it won't happen this time."

We had taken a few more steps when there was a sudden sound of fluttering. I glanced around and to my surprise saw that a chickadee had landed on Gil's shoulder.

"Oh, that's so cute!" I exclaimed. Gil frowned and tried to brush the bird off, but it merely fluttered and landed back on his shoulder.

"I think it likes you," I said with a smile as it twittered.

There was more fluttering and a small sparrow landed on his other shoulder.

"Wow," I said in surprise. "Birds aren't usually this friendly, are they . . . ?"

The chickadee hopped closer to his neck and a crow landed next to it.

"Um . . ."

Gil sighed and stuck out his arms. A small yellow bird flew down and perched near his elbow.

After a few minutes, Gil's arms were covered in birds. Crows, sparrows, chickadees, that one unidentifiable yellow bird, a cardinal and a Steller's jay—a red-tailed hawk had claimed his head.

Gil sighed. "Mattie, before you ask: this happens every time I come in these woods, I don't know why, and I can't get them off."

I stared at him. "That's . . . actually really cute . . ."

He smirked. "Well, whatever's on my head, its claws hurt like hell."

"It's a hawk."

"That explains why it's so heavy."

"Do you want me to get it off . . . ?"

"Nah, it's fine. They'll get off once we're outta the woods."

". . . Can I take a picture?"

"Yeah, but _don't_ show it to your bro," he emphasized, halting his stride as I took out my phone.

I smiled. "No problem," I said, and I snapped the picture.

We kept walking until we came out into a different street than we had started on. One by one, the birds fluttered off of Gil's arms and head until they were all gone.

He groaned with relief and dropped his arms. "You'd think a bunch of little birds wouldn't weigh so much," he grumbled.

We continued walking.

"I call the yellow one Gilbird," he said.

I glanced at him.

"Y'know, after me," he explained. "Gilbert? Gilbird?"

I smiled. "You named him?"

"Well, yeah, he's like the only one that shows up every time."

". . . Have you ever considered a career in ornithology?"

"What's that? No, wait—study of birds?"

I nodded.

"No way," he said firmly. "I'm not even that interested in them. They just come to me."

We continued walking in silence for another minute or two.

"I guess you could say I'm a chick magnet."

Both of us burst out laughing at this.


	7. The Dinner, the Questions, and the Slap

**Narrator: Mei**

* * *

><p>I waited nervously in the sitting room with dad, waiting for Al to show up. I hoped that he remembered to dress nicely—dad was in slacks and a sports jacket, and I was wearing a long skirt and nice shirt.<p>

I glanced up at the clock. It was only a bit past 7:30, but my dad, noticing this too, snapped, "He's late."

I frowned. "It's only been two minutes, dad."

He folded his arms and glowered. He was old-fashioned about a lot of things—for some reason, hair was one of the few things he _didn't_ care about. His was long and tied back in a neat ponytail.

There was a loud knock from the front door, to the rhythm of the Can-Can. I jumped up and went down the steps, where I opened the door to find Al. He had a big grin on his face and was thankfully wearing a jacket and nice jeans.

"Hey, beautiful," he said cheerfully. "Hope I'm not too late?"

"Not at all," I said, smiling back. "Come in—here, your shoes can go here . . ."

I led him back up the steps to where dad was still waiting stiffly. "Dad," I said nervously, "this is Alfred. Alfred, this is my dad."

He approached my dad with a confident smile. "Hey, Mr. Wang," he said cheerfully. "Nice to meet you!"

He held out his hand. Dad stood and took it, shaking firmly.

"It's good to meet you too, Alfred," he said. "I wouldn't want my daughter to date someone I've never met."

He looked at me as he said this, as if it were my fault that we had only recently been able to arrange a dinner date like this.

"Course not," Al replied cheerfully, missing the glance. "So . . . dinner?"

Dad raised an eyebrow. "Yes, it's on the table. Come in."

The three of us went to the dining room, where the steak and potatoes were still resting.

"Wow, this looks _delicious_," Al said eagerly, sitting down. "Which one of you made it?"

"I did," I said with a smile.

"Awesome!" Al carefully lifted a slice of steak and a spoonful of potatoes onto his plate and took a bite. "Mei, this tastes great!"

"Thank you," I said, smiling. Dad and I served ourselves as well and we all dug in.

"So, Alfred," dad said, looking at him. "What do you do?"

"Do?" Al said blankly. I noticed that he had already finished off the potatoes.

"For work," he clarified. "What kind of job do you have?"

"Oh, I don't really have one," Al said cheerfully, scooping more potatoes onto his plate (his steak had mysteriously vanished). "I did some stuff over the summer, but that was just summer, y'know? I'll probably do something next summer too."

Dad nodded coolly. "And your parents?"

"What about them?"

He sighed. "What do your parents do for work, Alfred?"

"Mom's a transcriptionist—y'know, those guys who type up reports and stuff—and dad's a janitor at the elementary."

"I see," dad said. He didn't bring up the subject again.

"Um . . . so what do _you_ do?" Al asked curiously.

"I own a small company," he replied.

"Whoa, nice!" Al said appreciatively. His plate was clean already.

The rest of the dinner passed mostly in silence. When everyone was finished, my dad stood and said, "It was nice to meet you, Alfred. Have a good night," and held out his hand. Al seemed surprised but shrugged and shook hands.

"Yeah, thanks for having me over," he said. "Mei—you're an awesome cook."

"Thanks," I said, smiling. I led him back to the front door. He kissed me goodbye and started to leave, only to turn back after realizing he had forgotten his shoes.

With all his clothes finally on, he left. I went back upstairs to clear away the table.

After I had finished washing dishes, dad said, "Mei, we need to talk. Come with me."

We went back to the sitting room, where he stood next to a chair. I stood across from him nervously.

"I don't want you seeing that boy," he said bluntly.

I froze.

"Why?" I asked finally.

He glowered. "He's an annoying and lazy good-for-nothing. He eats like a pig and his parents are lazy too."

"What?" I exclaimed. "His parents have good jobs!"

"A janitor is _not_ a good job!" he snapped. "Mei, think about your poor mother! She wouldn't want you to date this boy either!"

"Don't drag mom into this!" I yelled. "You can't just use her every time you want me to do something! 'Mom wouldn't want', or 'Mom would want', all the time!"

"The next time you see this boy," he yelled, "you tell him that you can't date him anymore!"

"No!" I exclaimed. "Dad, I love him! And he loves m—"

He slapped me hard across the face. Tears filled my eyes and I glared back at him.

"Do _not_ talk back to me," he said in a low voice. "Do you understand, young lady? Now _go to bed_, and you tell him at school that you're not going to date him anymore!"

I bit my lip, lowered my eyes, and nodded, turning around to go back to my room. I closed the door, threw myself onto my bed, and cried into my pillow.


	8. The Cats, the Traditions, and the Idea

**Narrator: Kiku**

* * *

><p>"Hm . . . Kiku?"<p>

I looked to see Hercules looking at me. "What is it?" I asked him.

"Did you know that . . . Halloween's coming up soon?"

I nodded. "Yes, I remember. Why did you ask?"

He looked again to the cat he was petting. "I was wondering . . . if you do Halloween . . . in Japan."

A cat moved her head against my hand and purred. I scratched her ears. "In Japan, we—"

I looked at him again and I saw that he was very still. His eyes closed and he fell back; I reached and caught him. While holding him with one hand, I took off my jacket with my other hand, folded it, and put it on the ground. I lied him on the ground with my jacket for a pillow.

While he slept, I petted more cats. One cat curled up on his legs.

Not a lot of time passed before he woke up. He sat up and pet the cat sleeping on his legs.

"Sorry," he said quietly. "What were we . . . talking about?"

"Halloween," I said. "In Japan, we don't celebrate Halloween as much as Americans do. But during summer, we often tell stories about ghosts."

"Why summer?" he asked.

I tilted my head. "Summer is the time for ghost stories, isn't it?"

"I've never . . . heard that."

"Ah . . . it must be only in Japan."

. . .

"What kind of ghost stories?"

I thought. "There are a lot of different ones . . . a famous story is about a _samurai_ who leaves his wife and returns years later. He is happy to see her and she is happy too. But when the morning comes, he finds that he's hugging a dead body and hears his neighbors talking about the death of his wife years ago. The title is . . . Black Hair."

He hugged a striped cat purring next to him. "Creepy . . ."

"What kind of traditions do Americans have?" I asked curiously.

"Hm . . ." he said. "On Halloween . . . little kids dress up in costumes . . . and go trick-or-treating. That's . . . when you knock on someone's door . . . and ask for candy. We carve pumpkins sometimes, too . . . and teenagers and adults sometimes have parties."

"That sounds interesting," I commented. "Are any of our friends having a party this Halloween?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't planning to . . . and no one else has brought it up . . ."

I lifted my head. "I have an idea."

He looked at me.

"In Japan—we have a summer tradition of _hyakumonogatari kaidankai_. It means . . . one hundred ghost stories. What happens is this: A group of people gather together, light one hundred candles, and put a mirror in the center of a table. One person tells a ghost story, blows out a candle, and looks in the mirror. This continues with everyone taking turns until all the candles are blown out."

"That sounds interesting . . ."

"Wouldn't it be interesting if us and our friends come to my house to do the _hyakumonogatari kaidankai_?" I asked. "It can be on Halloween, and we can dress in costumes."

He was silent. I knew that he wasn't asleep, because it hadn't been long ago that he had slept.

"That sounds fun," he said. "We can bring it up . . . at next lunchtime."

"I wonder where I can buy candles," I said to myself quietly.

"We can all . . . pitch in," he said softly. "Perhaps we can all . . . buy ten candles each?"

I looked up in thought. "If we all come to it . . . and if we don't include Lovino-_kun_ and Antonio-_kun_ . . . yes, I think we can all buy ten candles."

"I'll bet that Al . . . will be really scared," he said. "He hates ghosts."

"The room will get darker every time a candle is blown out," I said. "It becomes more scary as time passes."

He smiled. "That's one way . . . to scare everyone."

. . .

"So . . . where _can_ I buy ten candles?"


	9. The Note, the Espionage, and the Grade

I sat in math class and doodled on my paper while Mr. Laurinaitis talked about something. A crumpled piece of paper landed on my desk and I looked up to see Francis glance at me. I smoothed it out and read the note.

_I overheard Mei saying that she wants to talk to Alfred after class~_

At the bottom, I wrote _So? Maybe they're gonna make a date or something _

A moment later he tossed it back with the note _Or perhaps she'll propose!_ With a little drawing of a heart.

_Do people get married after dating for less than a year?_

_Usually, no_

_So . . . she's probably not gonna ask him to marry her_

_wink wink o_^_

I glanced at him and he winked twice at me.

"What're you guys talking about?" Al muttered.

"Nothing," Francis whispered, winking again. Al stuck out his tongue and turned away. I shrugged and went back to drawing.

* * *

><p>After math class Francis told me to follow him and be quiet. We quietly followed Al until he met with Mei. When that happened, Francis pulled me into the bushes.<p>

"What are we doing?" I whispered.

"Sh!" he hissed. "We're practicing the fine art of _eavesdropping_."

I frowned at him, but I was curious, so I stayed. Al and Mei moved farther away from the crowds, so we couldn't hear them, but we saw what was happening.

First Mei said something and then Al looked really sad and really mad. Then she said something else and he grabbed her hands and kissed her and said something while smiling. Then they walked away holding hands.

We climbed out of the bushes, attracting stares from some people.

"So . . ." I said. "What happened?"

He shrugged and looked like he was thinking. "It looked like whatever Mei said first upset Alfred . . . but the next thing she said clearly made up for it."

"Yeah, that part was kinda obvious."

We turned to see Gil and Toni coming towards us covered in twigs and leaves.

"I mean," Gil continued, brushing off some of the plant stuff, "anyone could see that, right?"

"Oh, so you two were spying on them too?" Francis asked. Gil and Toni nodded.

"We saw them going off together and I thought 'Hey, let's follow them' so I grabbed Toni and we hid in the bushes," Gil explained cheerfully.

Toni laughed. "So what did you guys think they were saying?"

I shrugged. "We couldn't hear them, so I dunno. Hey Francis, why were we listening to them in the first place?"

Francis smiled. "I told you, it's eavesdropping practice."

"Um . . . okay," I said. "Well . . . we couldn't hear them, and I gotta go to second period, so I'll see you guys later!"

* * *

><p>Later, in third period, I sat next to Lovi.<p>

"Hi, Feliciano," he said, getting his stuff out. "You read the book, right?"

"Oh . . . um . . ."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you watched the movie."

I looked up at the ceiling. "Well . . ."

"Goddammit Feliciano."

When class started, Ms. Kim asked us how many of us had finished the book. Everyone raised their hands.

"Good, good," she said, smiling. "Now, keep those hands up if you remember when Dorothy received the ruby slippers."

I kept my hand up, along with a few other people, but most of the class (including Lovi) put their hands down.

"Keep your hands up," she said, taking out her clipboard and writing something down. "And . . . all of you with your hands up? Your grades just went down a point."

"What?" I exclaimed. The others made similar sounds.

Ms. Kim frowned. "I warned you that if you watched the movie instead of reading the book, your grade would drop."

I sighed and looked down.

"Can't say I didn't warn you," Lovi muttered. "By the way, the shoes were silver in the book."

* * *

><p><strong>Yep, Francis actually wrote "wink wink" on the paper.<strong>


	10. The Proposal, the Pairs, and the Apology

At lunch, Kiku and Herc were late again. Herc said that he'd fallen asleep in his last class.

"I have an idea for Halloween," Kiku said not long after they'd sat down. "In Japan, there's a tradition of ghost stories called—"

"Ghost stories!" Al yelled. "I love ghost stories!"

"Er, yes . . . the tradition is called _hya_—"

"Aren't you scared of ghosts?" Francis asked him with a frown.

"_Hyakumonogatari kaidankai_. In English—"

"Yeah," Al said, waving a hand, "but only _real_ ghosts. Ghost stories are okay."

"Let him talk!" someone exclaimed. We looked around before realizing that it was Herc who'd said it.

"Go on," he said softly to Kiku after Francis and Al stopped talking.

"Er—thank you," Kiku said. "In English, the tradition is called one hundred ghost stories. A group of people gathers in a room at night, and one hundred candles are lighted in the room. Someone will tell a ghost story, and after he is done, he blows out a candle. Everyone takes turns until all one hundred candles are out."

"That sounds awesome," Al said immediately.

"I can't make it that day," Francis said. "Sorry."

"Uh—" Gil said. "Kiku didn't even say we were gonna do it."

"I was hoping that we could," Kiku admitted. "I want to invite everyone to my house on Halloween."

Francis shrugged. "I've got something going on that day," he said.

"Right, right," Gil said, smirking. "You're just scared of ghost stories."

Francis quickly nodded. "Who wouldn't be?"

"I'm sorry, Kiku, but I'm busy that day as well," Artie said.

"Ah," Kiku said disappointedly.

"I wanna go!" I exclaimed.

"It sounds interesting," Ludwig admitted. "I'd like to go."

"Mattie, you and me are going, okay?" Gil said, holding up Matt's hand.

"Um—okay," Matt said.

"I'd like to go too," Mei said. "If my dad lets me . . ."

Al put his arm around her shoulders. "Don't worry about it, babe," he said confidently. "Just, uh—don't lie, but don't tell the truth either, y'know?"

She looked uncomfortable. "I can try . . ."

"Lovi, doesn't that sound like fun?" Toni exclaimed excitedly.

Lovi shrugged. "Sure, why the hell not?"

Kiku smiled slightly. "You can wear costumes if you want. Hercules told me that costumes are a tradition in America."

"Oh yeah, definitely," Al exclaimed.

"Mattie!" Gil said. "You, me, matching costumes, okay?"

"What? Okay . . ."

"Feliciano," Ludwig said, turning to me, "would you like to wear matching costumes as well?"

"Okay!" I said. "What are we gonna be?"

"I—I'm not sure. We'll think about it later."

"Lovi—"

"We're not fucking buying costumes," Lovi said.

Toni's face fell. "Oh . . . okay."

"Mei, you wanna do matching things?" Al said.

"Maybe not . . ." she said. "I mean, I can't think of anything we could be . . ."

"Dammit, okay," Al muttered.

"I'm sure I'll . . . think of something to wear . . ." Herc said softly.

"I have an idea for what I want to wear," Kiku admitted. "Arthur, Francis, I'm sorry that both of you can't come."

Artie shrugged. "It can't be helped, I'm afraid. To be honest, we weren't going to tell you lot, but Francis is actually visiting my house that night."

"Oh yeah?" Gil said, looking back and forth between Francis and Artie, the first of who was staring at Artie.

Artie nodded. "We wanted time to discuss the book we're going to read in English."

"You two are weirdoes," Al said cheerfully, sitting back down. I couldn't remember when he'd gotten up to throw away his lunch tray.

The bell rang and we all went to our next class.


	11. The Race, the Thing, and the Telepathy

I was walking to Computer Graphics when I heard panting behind me and I turned and saw Gil running to the classroom.

"Hey Feli," he said quickly as he passed. He yanked open the door and yelled, "Dammit, Alfie, how the hell did you get here before me!? I thought I left you behind!"

I came up behind him and saw Al sitting in his spot. We went over to him as Mr. Wang shushed us.

"Guess I'm just faster than you," Al said, smirking. "I win."

Gil scowled. "Seeing how fast you move when you think you're _walking_, I shouldn't be surprised, but _still_ . . ." he threw his backpack to the ground and flopped into his chair.

"What?" Al said. "Do I walk fast or something?"

"Never mind. Hey, what are we doing today?"

"I think we're still playing around with text pictures," I piped up. "But it's due in a week, so we still have time."

"Last time we said that, we turned in the stuff two days late," Al pointed out, "but whatever, you're right, we got time."

Gil was about to reach into his backpack when he stopped and frowned. "Oh, right, no food or drink . . . dammit."

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask," Al said, "how come you're wearing your uniform this year? You, like, _never_ wore it last year."

"Oh, yeah," Gil said. "Mattie's been bugging me about that, said that I could get more points just by wearing the damn thing, except he didn't actually say 'damn', but y'know, I read between the lines."

"You mean you're remembering it how _you_ would have said it?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Hey, guys?" I said. "What's eavesdropping mean?"

"Listening in on people," Gil said. "Francis said that this morning, right?"

"What's going on?" Al asked.

"I was gonna ask _you_ that," Gil said, turning back to him. "What were you and dear Mei talking about this morning?"

He blinked. "Huh?"

"Francis dragged me into the bushes to spy on you guys," I explained. "And later we found out that Gil did the same with Toni."

Al scowled. "Since when is my love life a high point of interest to y'all?"

"Francis makes it his business to know about _everyone's_ love life," Gil pointed out. "And as for me, I was just going with the flow."

"Spying _isn't_ 'going with the fl—'"

"So, spill. What was that whole thing about?"

Al rolled his eyes. "Fine. She said that her dad doesn't want us dating anymore, and I dunno _why_, 'cause she's the best girl ever and I'm _fantastic_. Anyway, she said that she still wants to go out with me, and apparently she's really scared of her dad 'cause he gets scary when he's mad, I dunno, maybe he yells a lot or something, so I figured doing that was really brave of her and I told her that we're still totally gonna date but we'll do it behind his back and she still seemed kind of nervous but LOVE CONQUERS ALL so she agreed and we kissed and stuff."

"Did you have to shout that part?" Gil muttered as Mr. Wang told us to be quiet. "Okay, cool, so you guys are still a thing."

"We're always gonna be a thing," Al exclaimed. "Speaking of things, when are you and Ludwig gonna get together, Feli?"

"Probably February," I said.

"Why not now?"

I didn't really want to explain, so I just said, "It's a long story."

"Oh, never mind then. What're you guys gonna wear for Kiku's ghost thing?"

"We haven't decided . . ."

"What about you and Mattie?" Al demanded, turning to Gil.

"We haven't decided either," Gil said. "You know that we all agreed to this thing only less than three hours ago, right?"

"Yeah, but I dunno, maybe you guys are psychic and worked something out with your weird mind powers already."

Gil stared at him. "Even _my_ awesomeness has limits."

"So you and Mattie aren't doing a weird mind thing?"

"No."

"Damn . . ." Al sighed. "That would have been so cool."

"Aren't you and Mattie more likely to do that thing?" Gil pointed out. "You guys are twins."

"Yeah, but we're _fraternal_ twins, we're not _identical _twins—not like Feli and Lovi—hey . . ."

"Feli!" Gil exclaimed. "Can you and Lovino do weird mind things?"

"No?" I said.

"You totally could, though," Gil said, reaching over and grabbing my curl. "If you use this thing like an antenna—"

I gasped. He looked at me and let go of the curl.

"Please don't touch my hair," I said quietly.

"Okay, sure," he said. "Did I hurt you? Sorry."

"I'm fine . . ."

Mr. Wang came over and told us to get to work or he'd bring up reinstating corporal punishment at the next PTA meeting.


	12. The Arrivals, the Candles, and the Tales

**Just FYI, the stories that Kiku tells are either Japanese urban legends/old stories or are adapted from anime/manga.**

* * *

><p>Eliza dropped me off in front of Kiku's house. As she drove away, I went up to the front door and knocked.<p>

Kiku answered it. He was dressed in a white bathrobe and he had a white crown on his head shaped like a triangle.

"Welcome," he said formally, showing me inside. "I like your costume, Feli-_kun_."

I was wearing a Mario costume with a fake mustache. "Thanks!" I said. "I like your bathrobe! What are you?"

He shook his head. "This is a _kimono_. It's a traditional robe in Japan. I'm dressed as a Japanese ghost."

"Oh, cool," I said.

"My mother is going out for tonight," he explained as he led me to a room. It had a short table in the middle (with a small mirror in the center) and no windows; the light was turned on. When we went inside, I saw Ludwig and Gil already there. Ludwig was wearing a Luigi costume with a fake mustache and Gil was wearing a devil costume.

"Yay!" I exclaimed. "Ludwig, you wore the costume!"

He nodded. "Er, yes. Yes, I did."

I immediately sat next to him and hugged him.

"So when's the wedding?" Gil asked, pushing back the sleeve of his costume like he was checking the time. Ludwig smacked him.

"If you brought candles, you can set them in the room," Kiku said, coming back in for a moment. "I'll start to bring in food."

There was another knock on the door and Kiku went to answer it. A moment later, Mei came in. She was wearing a cute toga with a leaf crown on her head.

"Hi, everyone," she said shyly as we were setting out our candles. "I like your costumes!"

Gil whistled. "You too! Man, that's cute! Maybe Mattie and I should've gone in togas."

Kiku brought in canned iced tea and set them on the floor. As he went back out, we heard a car outside and Mei sighed. "My dad's kind of overbearing," she said quietly. "Whenever I go somewhere, he tends to linger outside for a minute or two before he actually leaves."

Gil looked like he wanted to say something, but then another knock on the door came. We saw Kiku hurrying past the room and heard the door open. There was a noise of surprise and someone said softly, "Meow . . ."

A moment later Kiku led Herc into the room. As Kiku hurried out (his cheeks were red for some reason), I saw that Herc was wearing a pair of cat ears, mittens that looked like cat paws, and a cat's tail tied to his back.

"Hi," he said, sitting next to me and taking out his candles. "I like . . . your costumes."

"Yours is nice too," Ludwig said, finishing setting out his and Gil's candles. I'd set all mine on the table.

Mei came and sat back down after she'd finished setting her candles around the room.

Another knock came from the door. Kiku came past the room again and then led Al and Matt in. Al was wearing a toga and leaf crown, like Mei, and Matt was wearing an angel costume.

"Hi!" Al yelled. "Mei, you look great!"

"Mattie, you're so cute!" Gil exclaimed. "Get over here!"

Not long after that, yet another knock came, and Kiku led Toni and Lovi in. They weren't wearing costumes, but Toni had a small box in his hands.

"Hi!" he exclaimed. "Lovi and I found these for cheap!" he opened the box to show six candles.

"Oh, that's good," Matt said with a smile. "Al, do you want me to put ours out?"

"I just finished doing that," Al said, sitting down.

"When did you do that?" Ludwig demanded.

"You didn't see me?"

"Never mind."

Lovi saw me and groaned. "Feliciano, what the _hell_ are you wearing?"

"A Mario costume," I said. "Why?"

"That goddamn mustache looks dumb," he muttered. "Well, whatever—" he spotted Ludwig and burst out laughing. "Oh man, you look so stupid with that mustache, you bastard!"

Ludwig scowled.

"Lovi, be nice," Toni said, pushing him into a sitting position and going to set the candles out.

Eventually everyone settled down. All the candles were out and Kiku had lit them all and turned the lights off in the room.

"Welcome to the one-hundred story-telling tradition," he said dramatically. "This is how the game plays: Everyone will take turns telling a scary story. The story can be something scary that has happened to you, a legend, or just a regular ghost story. When you are done telling the story, you must blow out one of the candles, look into the mirror on the table, and sit down again." He paused for breath. "If no one minds, I'll begin."

He took a breath and began.

"A long time ago, a _samurai_ was called from his home to work for the emperor. He had to leave his wife, who was very beautiful, with long black hair. She was very sad, but she promised to wait for him. He worked for many years. Finally, the emperor let him go home. He returned and found his wife waiting for him. She was older, but she was still beautiful. She was very happy to see him and he was very happy to see her. They rested together on that night for the first time in many years. When the _samurai_ woke up the next morning, he found that he was holding a corpse with long black hair. He heard his neighbors talking about his wife. They said she had died exactly one year ago."

"Aah, that's so creepy!" Al exclaimed.

"So he was talking to a dead person?" I whispered.

"That wasn't scary," Lovi scoffed. I noticed that his hands were curled into fists on the floor.

Kiku smiled slightly. "That story is an old one from Japan," he explained. He leaned over, blew out a candle, stood, looked in the mirror, and sat back down.

"Ooh, me next!" Toni exclaimed. He cleared his throat. "If I had known that being buried was this lonely, I would've been cremated instead."

Silence.

"Oh, I get it," Al exclaimed suddenly.

"Mm-hm," Ludwig muttered. "That was rather short."

Toni shrugged. "It's creepy, though," he said cheerfully. He blew out a candle, looked in the mirror, and sat back down.

"I've got one," Herc said softly. "I heard . . . my mother calling me . . . from outside. I got up . . . to see her, but then . . . I heard her from the kitchen . . . saying, 'Don't go . . . I heard it, too.'"

"Nice," Gil said appreciatively. After Herc did the candle and mirror thing, Gil said, "Okay, me next. So I went to the classroom one day and there was this paper on the bulletin board, and no one could take it off. It had the name of one of the guys in the class on it. The next day, the guy was absent, and everyone read in the paper that he had hung himself in his room. The piece of paper was still there, and it had the name of another guy in the class on it, and the first guy's name was crossed out. The next day everyone saw in the paper that the second guy had hung himself, too. On the paper, the second guy's name was crossed out, and below that . . . was _my_ name!"

"That's so creepy," Matt whispered.

"Hey, don't worry," Gil said, going to blow out a candle. "It ain't real!"

"M-Mei," Al whispered, "if you get scared, y'know, you can hold my hand . . ."

Mei smiled. "I don't scare easy, Al."

"Oh," he whispered.

"I'll go next," she said brightly. "My husband and I were sleeping a little before midnight when our little daughter came into our room. She climbed up on our bed and whispered to me, 'Mommy, guess how old I am next month?' I asked 'How old?' and she smiled and held up four fingers."

Mei paused.

"We've been up with her for hours now, and she won't tell us where she got them."

There was a moment of silence.

"Oh!" Toni exclaimed. "So the fingers—oh!" He shuddered.

Al whined, "Mei, that was creepy . . ."

She smiled and looked in the mirror after blowing out a candle.

"O-Okay," Al said. "I've got one—I'm pretty sure most of us have heard it, so Kiku, this is mainly for you. So there's this legend that if you turn off all the lights, look in the mirror, and say 'Bloody Mary' three times, Blood Mary'll come through the mirror and CHOP YOUR HEAD OFF!"

Everyone jumped.

"Don't yell, dammit," Lovi snapped as Al blew out a candle and looked in the mirror.

"I have one," Matt offered. "One night I heard knocking in my room. I couldn't figure out what was outside my window, but then I realized it was coming from the mirror."

"Scary," Kiku said quietly.

Matt blew out a candle and looked in the mirror.

"Well, I've got one to do with a mirror, too," Lovi said. "It's said that everyone can go through a mirror, but if you try, your reflection is always blocking you. It presses its fingers to yours, its forehead to yours, and always stops you from going through. What if it's trying to stop you from entering that world? And . . . what if _you're_ the reflection?"

"Nope, no way," Gil said. "There's only one of the awesome me!"

Lovi stared at him. "Not if you look in the mirror," he said calmly.

Gil narrowed his eyes. Lovi smirked and blew out a candle, looking in the mirror as he did so.

"I've got one!" I exclaimed. "There was a man in an empty elevator. As the doors closed, he felt a hand on his shoulder!"

"Oh, that was it?" Mei asked.

"Yeah." I blew out a candle and looked in the mirror.

"I have one," Ludwig said. "There was once a man who found a stopwatch which could literally stop time. He used it for selfish purposes such as getting revenge on those he disliked and stealing things without paying. But one day, he carelessly dropped the watch and it broke—and time was stopped forever. Everyone but him was eternally frozen in the same place, and no matter how much he spoke to them or what he did, they would never speak or move again."

"Poor guy," I said quietly. Ludwig blew out a candle and looked in the mirror.

"I have another one," Kiku said. "A man comes to you wearing a mask and he asks you if you want a red coat or a blue coat. Which one do you pick?"

"I want red!" Al yelled. "It's the color of the hero!"

"I see," Kiku said. "Because you choose the red coat, the man cuts your body all over, staining you in _red_."

"Oh," Al said.

"Then . . . blue cloak," Herc said softly.

"In that case," Kiku continued, "the man strangles you until you die, which turns your face _blue_."

He smiled a bit. "It's another old story in Japan," he said, blowing out a candle and looking in the mirror.

"No offense, but Japan sounds pretty fucked up," Gil muttered. "Okay, me next. There was a girl who was walking to school, and on her way, she saw a classmate hopping up and down on a manhole cover. As she got closer, she heard the classmate saying to herself, over and over, 'Three, three, three.' She recognized the classmate as a girl who was bullied a lot. She tried to ask the classmate what she was doing, but the girl completely ignored her, so she gave up and went to school. When she was on her way home, the classmate was still hopping up and down on the manhole cover, but now she was saying, 'Nine, nine, nine.' She tried to talk to her more, but she was ignored, so she got really mad and pushed the classmate to the ground, yelled, 'My turn!' and started hopping up and down on the manhole cover. The second she leaped in the air, the classmate yanked the manhole cover away, and the girl fell down to her death. The classmate put the cover back on and kept hopping, but now she said, 'Ten, ten, ten . . .'"

Gil leaned over and blew out a candle and looked in the mirror.

"Dude, that's messed up," Al said, shivering.

"I have one," Lovi said. "I never go to sleep . . . but I keep waking up."

Toni frowned. "Lovi, you went to sleep last night, I saw you—"

"It's a _story_—were you watching me sleep!?"

Toni nodded. "Yeah! You looked so cute, you kept trying not to close your eyes—"

"You pervert!"

"We live in the same house and we're dating," Toni pointed out. Lovi punched him and blew out a candle.

"I've got one!" Al exclaimed. "So there was this woman who had a spider bite on her arm, and it kept growing bigger and bigger, and it was really red, and the doctor told her to take a hot bath and it would probably shrink, so she took a bath and then the bite burst open and a whole bunch of baby spiders burst out!"

He blew out a candle and looked in the mirror.

"That story's so old," Gil said, rolling his eyes. "I've got a better one about spiders. There was this boy who really liked spiders, see, and he kept collecting them, like they were all over his room building webs and there was a big one in a fish tank. One day his mom came in and she saw a really big web. He touched her shoulder and said, 'Don't worry, we never eat the parents.'"

He blew out a candle.

"Oh, wait, so he turned into a spider?" Toni asked.

Ludwig rolled his eyes.

"I have one about spiders," Mei offered. "A little girl once had a mole removed. The wound was still open, and her mother warned her not to touch it. The little girl went outside and took off the bandage from her hand, studying the wound. As she did, a tiny spider crawled inside and burrowed down, down, down into her skin until it was so deep it could no longer be seen. Fascinated, she went around the yard and found more spiders, all of which willingly crept into the wound and burrowed under her skin. She didn't stop until she couldn't find any more spiders.

"That night, the little girl woke with a fever. Her parents were worried, but she said that she was fine and went back to sleep. The next morning, she found a few dead spiders on the mattress, and her fever was completely gone.

"Her mother told her that the mole had been malignant, and she knew that this was bad, but she insisted that she felt fine and ran around without getting tired to prove it. Her mother took her to another doctor and she was found to be free of injuries or tumors. She was sure that the spiders had eaten away her sickness.

"As the months went on, her appetite increased and she started liking meat more. She wondered how the spiders inside her reproduced, since there were certainly more now than there had been in the first place. She could feel them moving inside her sometimes. Whenever she was called for dinner, there was a shift as the many spiders hurried to her stomach, and she knew that she ate so much now because she was eating for both herself and the spiders.

"The girl was at school and fell from the jungle gym. There was a _CRACK_ and her ankle snapped. Her friends screamed, but the girl simply stared at her broken ankle. There was a rush as every spider in her body shifted down to her ankle, and it was slowly straightened until it was good as new, bound by spiders' webs. Several dead spiders fell from her sleeves. There was no pain; the spiders had eaten that, too.

"When the flu season came around, two spiders died after she was coughed on. She never got the flu, but was sad that the spiders died for her after eating the flu. She ate a spoiled piece of meat, and the spiders ate the bacteria. She tasted a handful of elderberries, and the spiders ate the poison. And when the man at the grocery store put his hand up the girl's skirt, the spiders devoured him, too."

Mei took a breath and cracked open her iced tea, taking a small swig and reminding the rest of us that the drink was available. She blew out a candle.

"That was totally creepy, but totally _awesome_," Al said. "It'd be so cool and weird to have spiders all over my body!"

I opened my iced tea. "That was scary," I whispered, taking a drink. It was lemon flavor.

"I have another one," Kiku said quietly. "This is the story of the _Teke-Teke_. The legend says that a woman fell onto the train tracks and was cut in half by the train. Now she lives as a ghost. If you are walking alone at night, you might hear a _teke-teke_ behind you. The woman uses her hands to crawl very fast to you. When she catches you, she will slice you in half with a pair of large scissors, making you one of the _Teke-Teke_."

He blew out a candle.

"Where'd she get the scissors?" Lovi asked.

Kiku shrugged.

Herc raised his hand. "I have one . . . I always thought that . . . the cats liked looking at me. But . . . I realized . . . that they were always looking . . . just behind me."

He blew out a candle and said quietly, "Meow."

Kiku looked up at the ceiling. "Interesting story," he said softly.

"Okay, I've got one," Al said. "Every day I come home to find my wife cradling our child. And I don't know which is creepier—seeing their cold corpses or knowing that someone broke into my house to put them there."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Gil snapped as Al blew out a candle.

"You're the one with that creepy manhole story!" Al exclaimed.

"Me next," Toni said. "My daughter keeps crying throughout the night. I keep going to her grave to ask her to stop, but she won't."

He blew out a candle.

"Don't be so creepy," Lovi snapped.

"Sorry," Toni said cheerfully.

"I have one," Ludwig said. "I've heard that you shouldn't be scared of ghosts. All you have to do is look for them—down, left, right, forwards, and backwards. But don't look up—she _hates_ being seen."

Al immediately looked up.

Ludwig blew out a candle.

"Oh, I have one!" I said. "This happened to me a couple nights ago! I was in my room all alone, and out of nowhere, I smelled a fart, and it wasn't from me!"

"Scary!" Al yelled. "Dude, that's the scariest one yet!"

"I know," I exclaimed, blowing out a candle.

"Are you _serious_?" Lovi demanded. "Ugh, whatever. Okay, I've got one. Two travelers were walking past a forest. One of them stopped and said, 'I hear someone whispering.' The other one stopped. They both listened and heard someone whispering something over and over, but they couldn't make out what it was. All they knew was that it was coming from the forest. They decided to go and investigate, and so they headed into the woods. As they went in, the whispering continued echoing off of the oddly-shaped trees. Soon, they had gone so deep into the forest that everything was shrouded in the gloom. As their eyes adjusted, the whispering grew louder, and they realized that it was the same word over and over again: _'Help . . . help . . .'_ and they suddenly realized that the tree trunks were shaped oddly like disfigured humans. When they looked down, they saw that their legs were entwined with tree roots, which were slowly pulling them in . . ."

"That's it," he added after a moment. He blew out a candle.

"Note to self: Never go into a forest that whispers," Gil muttered.


	13. The Indignation, the Ghost, and the Exit

"I have a story," Matt said quietly. "A man found out that he could trade anything with someone—physical ailments, feelings, _anything_. He wishes to marry a lovely young lady, but she wants a man who is more compassionate and turns him down. He first trades away his youth to an old man in exchange for a penthouse apartment and plenty of money. Now he is rich but very old. He subsequently offers a large group of young men some cash for one year of their lives. They all accept, and he's soon young again and still with plenty of money. He asks the young lady for her hand again, but she refuses, once again insisting that she wants a man more compassionate, like her father. The man goes to her father and offers to make him financially secure in exchange for his compassion. The next day, the man has become more compassionate and caring, and the woman agrees to wed him. He goes to her father and asks for his approval of their marriage, but he refuses. The man asks him, 'Don't you have any compassion?' to which the older man replies coldly, 'I sold that to you already,' and shoots the young man dead."

He got up, blew out a candle, and sat back down.

"Nice," Gil said. "So, moral of the story . . . ?"

Matt shrugged. "Don't try to be someone you're not?"

"Unless you're an actor," Al added.

"I have one," Ludwig offered. "Yesterday I found several pictures of myself sleeping. I—"

"Oh, shit," Gil said. "I can explain!"

Ludwig stared at him. "Excuse me?"

"See, it was all part of my master plan," Gil began, but Ludwig cut him off.

"I—that was the beginning of a short story," he said, staring at his brother. "The rest of it was 'I live alone.' I wasn't trying to tell something that actually happened to me."

"Oh," Gil said. "Uh, this is awkward . . ."

Ludwig narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying what I _think_ you're saying?"

Gil leaned away. "This is all a misunderstanding—"

Ludwig glared at him.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" Al yelled.

"Er, please, don't fight," Kiku said quietly. "The candles could be knocked over."

"We will talk about this later," Ludwig hissed.

Gil looked away.

"Uh . . . I got something," Al said. "Okay, so this _actually_ happened to me when I was little. I woke up in the middle of the night and there was a _ghost_ standing over me! It was all white like a sheet, and it made creepy noises, and I screamed, and then mom and dad came in the room and turned on the light a minute later, and the ghost was _gone_! And Mattie was in his bed across from mine and he never saw the ghost! Right, Mattie?"

Matt looked down. "Um . . ."

"Did you see the ghost?" Al demanded.

Matt looked up now. "I . . . I should probably tell you now . . . that was me."

"Huh?"

"I was the 'ghost,'" Matt admitted. "I threw a sheet over myself, stood over you, made some noises, and I ran back to bed and hid the sheet before mom and dad came in."

Al stared at him.

"I'm kind of surprised you didn't figure it out," Matt said quietly.

"Wha—Mattie!" Al exclaimed indignantly. "Why would you traumatize your poor brother like that!?"

"I only did it because you duct-taped me to the fridge the day before," Matt protested.

"You _what_!?" Gil exclaimed. "Alfie, duct-taping people to fridges is _so_ not cool—good job scaring him, Mattie."

Al pouted. "I was just having some fun," he muttered as he got up to blow out a candle.

"Uh . . . moving on," Lovi said quickly. "I've got a short story: The last man on Earth heard a knock on the door."

He blew out a candle.

"Nice," Al said.

"I have one," Kiku offered. "A family moved into a house. One day they noticed the father was missing and soon they heard someone calling for help. They went under the house and found the father. He was trapped under the main post of the house. The family wanted to get him out, but he said he was almost dead and moving him may make the whole house fall apart, because he was under the main post. He died under that main post and his body is still there today . . . and the family never knew how the father got himself under the post to begin with."

Kiku blew out a candle.

"So how _did_ he get under the pole?" Al demanded.

Kiku shrugged. "It's a mystery," he said quietly.

* * *

><p>We went around telling stories like this for a long time. Eventually there were less than twenty of the candles still lit.<p>

"It's getting pretty dark," Al said nervously, squeezing Mei's hand. "Mei, don't be scared, okay?"

"Okay, I'll try," Mei said, smiling.

"Ah, I forgot to tell you," Kiku said quietly, "when all of the candles are blew out, evil spirits will come."

"What!?" Gil yelled. "Hey, you waited until the last minute to tell us on _purpose_! Don't deny it, you little shit, I see you smirking!"

"Ghosts!?" I cried. "Someone protect me!"

I felt someone's arms wrap around me protectively.

"We can continue telling stories," Kiku offered. "A long time ago—"

"No!" Lovi yelled. "No way! I didn't sign up for a fucking demon summoning ritual!"

"Lovi, it's okay, I'll protect you from the demons!"

"AAH! WHO THE HELL IS HUGGING ME—!? TONI, GET THE HELL OFF!"

"MEI DON'T WORRY I'LL PROTECT YOU!"

"MATTIE, I GOT YOUR BACK!"

"Meow . . ."

The lights suddenly came on. I looked around. Kiku was standing at the light switch. Ludwig had his arms around me. Al was hugging Mei and hiding behind her. Gil looked like he was doing his best to completely block Matt from any kind of danger. Lovi was trying to get Toni's arms off of him. And Herc was sitting calmly in his spot.

Everyone quickly let go of their partners.

"I will blow out the last candles," Kiku said with a little smile.

"Okay, we're going," Lovi snapped, standing up. "Kiku, thanks for the drinks and stuff. It was fun, I guess."

"Bye! Thanks!" Toni said cheerfully, following Lovi.

I heard a car outside. I left the room and peeked out the window.

"Oh, it's Eliza," I said. I came back into the room, said goodbye to everyone, thanked Kiku, and left.

* * *

><p><strong>If you guys want some horror manga, I recommend reading something by Junji Ito. I've read Gyo, Uzumaki, The Enigma of Amigara Fault, The Sad Tale of the Principal Post (which Kiku told in this chapter), and The Groaning Drain. They were all very good. Word of warning - he tends to work with "body horror," as in bending and twisting the human body in his art in ways that it shouldn't be twisted and bent. It's pretty interesting, but if you don't like that kind of stuff, I'd avoid his work altogether.<strong>

**Happy Halloween~!**


	14. The Cleanup, the Families, and the Meet

**Narrator: Kiku**

* * *

><p>I began to clean the room. Ludwig-<em>kun<em>, Gilbert-_kun_, Alfred-_kun_, Matthew-_kun_, Mei-_chan_, and Hercules were all there. Hercules was laying down and closing his eyes.

"I'll help," Ludwig-_kun_ said. He stood up and picked up cans and candles.

"Thank you," I said.

"I'll grab the candles me n' Mattie brought," Alfred-_kun_ said. He stood up.

Everyone except Hercules stood up and started helping.

"Thank you all," I said. "You didn't have to do this."

"Nah, no problem," said Gilbert-_kun_.

Soon we cleared away all of the candles and cans. I heard a car outside the house.

Gilbert-_kun_ left the room to look. He came back and said, "Hey, Mattie, Alfie, your mom's here. Mattie, see you at school!"

"Bye!" Alfred-_kun_ said. "Kiku, you're awesome, thanks!"

Him and Matthew-_kun_ left. Thirty minutes after that, everyone except for Hercules had left.

Hercules moved and woke up. He sat up slowly.

"Hm . . ." he said, looking around the room. "Everyone . . . left?"

"Yes," I said. "Ludwig-_kun_ and Gilbert-_kun_ left not long ago."

"Okay . . . sorry I . . . couldn't help out . . ." he said.

"It's okay," I said. "Do you need to be at your house soon?"

He shrugged. "It's not far . . ."

I looked at the clock outside. "My mother will return soon . . ."

He didn't say anything for a minute. Then he said, "Kiku? If you . . . don't mind me asking . . . where's your dad?"

I sat next to him. "I don't mind your asking," I said. "He died in the water when he took a fishing vacation. I was a baby."

He frowned. "Died . . . in the water . . . ? You mean drowned . . . ?"

"Yes, that's the word," I said. "I don't remember him."

There was another minute of silence.

"If you don't mind _me _asking," I said, pausing, "where is—?"

"My dad?" he asked. I nodded and looked at the floor.

"I . . . don't know," he said.

I waited.

"My mom . . . told me that . . . she met him at a bar," he said. "It was a . . . one-night stand."

"One-night . . . ?"

He explained.

"Oh."

"She never . . . got his name . . . or saw him again," he said.

"Your mother told you this?" I said.

He nodded. "We're . . . usually pretty open . . . with each other."

"I understand," I said.

There was another minute of silence.

"I like your costume," I said.

"Thanks . . . I like yours," he said. "So . . . what's your . . . favorite _manga_?"

"I like many _manga_," I said. "_Burichi_, _Naruto__, __Kuroshitsuji_, _Wan Pisu_, _Monsuta_, _Tetsuwan Atomu_, _Burakku Jakku_, _Soru Ita_—"

I stopped talking. "I'm sorry," I said. "I said a lot."

"It's fine . . ." Hercules said.

"What is your favorite _manga_ or books?" I asked.

"I don't read . . . a lot now," he said. "I did . . . when I was younger. I liked . . . _Alice in Wonderland . . . The Mysterious (. . .) Benedict Society . . ._ the_ Narnia_ series . . ."

"I know of _Alice in Wonderland_," I said. "I don't know of the other ones."

"Maybe . . . I should get back . . . into reading," he said.

I heard a car outside.

"That's probably my mother," I said. "Hercules, do you want to meet her?"

A minute after that, my mother opened the door and entered.

"_Ah, tadaima . . . sagyō wa yosō_—"

She stopped talking when she saw Hercules. "Oh, hello!" she said with a smile. "Are you a friend of Kiku's?"

Hercules nodded and stood up. "It's nice . . . to meet you. I'm . . . Hercules." He shook her hand.

"Kiku was told me about you," she said. "I'm happy since both of you like cats!"

"Er—Hercules, do you want me to walk you to your house?" I asked.

He nodded. "Thanks . . . nice to meet you, Ms. Honda . . . bye."

We left.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**The manga Kiku listed are, in order: Bleach, Naruto, Black Butler, One Piece, Naoki Urasawa's Monster, Astro Boy, Black Jack, and Soul Eater**

**Ah, tadaima... sagyo wa yoso- = Ah, I'm back... work was-**


	15. The Complaint, the Family, and the Bed

**Narrator: Antonio**

* * *

><p>Lovi and I finally got back to the apartment. The landlady barely looked at us when we came in. We dragged our bikes up the stairs, unlocked the door, and went in.<p>

"Well . . . that was fun!" I said as we set aside the bikes and locks. "Wasn't it?"

"Mm, sure," Lovi muttered. "I need a shower."

"I'll go next!" I proclaimed. He shrugged and went to the bathroom, pulling off his shirt and shutting the door.

About ten minutes later he came out with the towel around his waist, went to the dresser, pulled on fresh boxers, and tossed the towel to me.

"Don't take too long," he said.

"I know," I replied. I kept my time short in there and soon came out to join Lovi. After I got on boxers, I put the towel back and sat next to him on the couch.

"Lovi, what's the matter?" I asked, reaching up to his hair, but he slapped my hand away.

"I'm not in the mood, Toni," he snapped.

"What's wrong?" I repeated.

"I don't know," he said. "I just—I don't know."

I rubbed my hands together. It'd be November in a little less than an hour, which meant that colder weather was on the way.

"Feli seemed to have fun," I said. "When do you think he and Ludwig are gonna get together?"

He looked away. "You were paying that much attention to him . . . ?"

"Huh?"

"You always—you always seem to notice him more," he muttered, not looking at me. "If he and I are there, you focus on him."

I stared at him. "Lovi . . ."

"_What?_"

"Well . . . I see you literally _every_ day. I only see Feli on school days, and that's only at lunch." I paused. "You . . . he's your brother, but you see him for about the same time I do, maybe a little more . . . I'd love the chance to see my family if it was me . . ."

I took a breath. "I . . . sometimes I wonder about my dad," I confessed. "I ran away 'cause he wouldn't stop drinking and hitting me . . . but he was a good dad when he wasn't drunk. We'd watch movies, or play board games, or go to the park . . . and sometimes I wonder if he's stopped drinking now, or if he's moved away, or remarried . . ."

I leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. The mold in the corner was coming back.

"Anyway," I said softly, "Feli's my friend. Of course I'm going to pay attention to my friends."

He was looking at me now.

"Sorry," he said quietly. He pulled me into a light hug. I briefly hugged him back.

"I . . . I miss _nonno_ sometimes," he admitted. "He usually paid more attention to Feli, but . . . he was such a good grandpa."

We let go of each other. "Maybe we can get a board game or two at a garage sale," he suggested. "We've both got jobs now, and they're usually pretty cheap."

I smiled. "That sounds good!"

He got up to look at the clock. "Geez, it's late," he said, yawning. "Let's get to bed."

I went to the bed and crawled under the comforter as Lovi went back to the couch.

"Hey, Lovi?"

"Mm?"

"Wanna sleep with me tonight?"

He stared at me, turning red. "What—you—?"

"Not like that," I amended. "Like how Feli used to think it was."

"Oh," he said. "Well . . ."

"Come on," I wheedled. "We'll keep each other warm."

He hesitated.

"Lovi?"

"Fine."

He shut off the light and crawled into bed with me. It was a lot warmer with him there.

"Toni?"

"Mm?"

"Maybe . . . we don't have to get another bed after all."

". . . Mm."


	16. The Cards, the Knock, and the Bastard

**Quick refresher:**

**Marigold (Mari) = fairy**

**Sage = flying mint bunny**

**Rowan = brownie (elf, kind of)**

**Fern = unicorn pony thing**

**Hagrid = ?**

**Narrator: Arthur**

* * *

><p>"Please," I begged, "it's just for tonight. I know I'm asking a lot, but I can't keep him in my room with Francis here, and you know he's not old enough to bre—"<p>

"Okay!" Mari interrupted, impatiently crossing her tiny arms. "But just for tonight, Arthur! You know what'll happen if the others find out!"

"I know, I'm sorry," I said, apologizing for what felt like the thousandth time. I helped lift Hagrid out my window. He was on Fern's back, and she cantered out onto the roof as Rowan and Sage supported him. As they left, I wished them good luck and shut my window as a knock came from the door.

I quickly left my room and saw Dean already answering the door. After a brief exchange, Francis stepped in and saw me looking from above. I waved and said, "Come on up."

He slipped off his shoes and ambled up the steps. I brought him into my room and shut the door.

"So, what's up?" he asked almost immediately. "You're the one who 'invited' me here."

"Don't give me that tone," I muttered, briefly glancing out the window to make sure the others were out of sight. "I covered for you. Besides, I thought you might want some company tonight, seeing as everyone else is at Kiku's place for the storytelling game."

". . . Thanks."

"Anytime."

I sat on my bed. "Anything you want to talk about, or . . . ?"

He shrugged. "Not particularly." He glanced at my door. "Where're your brothers?"

"Oh, Colin and James are in their room, probably plotting something," I muttered. "That's what they're usually doing, anyway. Dean and Seamus usually do most of the work around here—I mean, right now, they're the only ones with jobs—and they got the night off, so they're taking a break downstairs. I think they're playing some board game."

"Okay," he said.

. . .

"I have some cards," I offered. "We could play Go Fish or Blackjack."

"Or strip poker," he suggested, smirking.

"I'm good, thanks," I muttered, taking out the deck.

* * *

><p>We were halfway through our second game of Blackjack when there was a knock on the door. I glanced up and frowned slightly. "That's weird. I didn't think any of us were expecting anyone . . ."<p>

I heard Seamus' footsteps downstairs and the door opening. For a moment there was silence—then I heard someone say, "Well, Seamus, you're all grown up! How're my others doing, huh?"

I froze. It couldn't be . . .

"Arthur?" Francis said. "What's—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to listen," I hissed. He fell silent.

I heard Dean leaving the living room and Colin and James leave their room. There was a pause in Dean's walking, and I heard the person at the door now say, "Dean! Dean . . . I haven't seen you in years, boy! How're you?"

And now the person directed his voice to the twins standing at the top of the stairs. "Colin! James! Oh, are you two still up to your tricks?"

Neither Dean nor Colin nor James responded. I heard fast footfalls and my door flew open.

"Sorry for not knocking, Baby Artie—" Colin began.

"—but this is kind of an emergency," James continued.

"Listen, us four'll take care of that asshole—"

"—you stay up here—"

"—don't come downstairs—"

"—until Seamus says it's okay."

They left and shut the door.

"What the hell is—?" Francis began, but the door opened again as I stood up.

"Art," Dean said. "The twins told you?"

"Yeah," I muttered, my hands trembling as I opened my top dresser drawer and took out my wand.

Dean raised his eyebrows as I took it out and glanced at Francis, who was still sitting on the floor, staring at me in confusion. "Uh—Art?" he said, gesturing to Francis, and then my wand.

I glanced at Francis and made a split-second decision. "It's okay," I said. "He knows."

"Oh," he said, sounding slightly impressed. "Then—come out, but don't come down unless I give the signal. Wait up here. If he comes upstairs, hex him like there's no tomorrow."

I nodded and followed him out, gesturing for Francis to come.

"What's going on?" he hissed.

"I'm having a mild panic attack right now," I muttered, trying to control my breathing and trembling hands, "so if you'll excuse me, I'll explain _after_ that bastard leaves."

A moment of silence later and Francis placed his arms around my shoulders in a comforting manner.

I chanced a peek around the corner. Colin and James were standing near the stairs, ready to bolt if necessary, and Seamus and Dean were facing the person at the door.

He was just as I remembered him: Red hair, a tiny, unfitting nose, dark eyes, and a cocky smirk like he _owned_ us and the goddamn house.

"Now, how's the little one doing?" he was asking. "How's little Arthur?"

"He's out right now," Seamus said coldly. "And you should be, too."

"Oh, come on," the man said. "What a way to talk to your father!"

"Some father you are!" Colin exclaimed.

"I can't remember the last time you did anything _remotely_ fatherly," James commented.

"Not you boys, too," said the man, sounding regretful (must've been acting, damn bastard). "Really . . . well, tell me, Dean, my favorite stepson—how are you and Arthur? I must say, your eyes look almost exactly like your mother's. It's uncanny!"

"You don't get to talk about my mother," Dean spat. "Look at the way you treated her sons and your _own_ sons after she died!"

"Now, I came back to apologize!" my stepfather said, raising his hands. He glanced up—I whipped my head back around the corner, but it was too late. "Why, Arthur _is_ here! Hello up there, Arthur! Why don't you come down and say hello to your stepfather?"

"Now listen," Seamus said coldly. "It doesn't matter what you came here to say, an apology or a threat or _whatever_. None of us have legally been your sons for years. Right now you are an unrelated stranger and you are trespassing on our property. Don't make me call the police to arrest you again."

"Don't speak to your father that way, Seamus," Edward (my stepfather) said, dropping the parental tone. "I only—"

"Dean," Seamus said. "Get me the phone. I'm calling the cops."

Edward crossed his arms. "You wouldn't."

I heard Dean coming back. Seamus said, "Thank you," and dialed a three-digit number. A second later he said, "Police? Yeah, I've got a complete stranger harassing me and my family and trying to enter our house without permission—"

Edward turned around and ran out the door. Seamus shut the door and as soon as he was out of sight, he turned and called, "Artie, come on down. He's gone."

"I think—I'll stay in my room for now," I called back down, sliding down the wall and squatting on the floor.

"Alright," he called. I heard him explain to the others that he hadn't actually dialed 911 and he was only bluffing.

I felt a hand help me up and guide me back to my room. When I got there, I sat down on my bed and set my wand aside.

I realized it was Francis who'd helped me. He was standing awkwardly in the room.

"So—" he said. "What was . . ."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry—I've pretty much given everything away now." I glanced at my wand. "I promise I'll explain this all to you, but not tonight. I—give me some time. I'll explain when I'm ready."

To his credit, he did not prod me for an explanation, but nodded and took out his phone. After a brief conversation, his mom was on his way to pick him up.

He sat next to me as I bowed my head, putting my hand to my forehead. Just having someone there was enough comfort for the moment.


	17. The Unicorn, the Baboon, and the Teacher

"Yo, Feli!" Al called. I looked over and saw that he was standing up at his desk—I'd just gotten there and Francis was coming in. The bell was gonna ring in a few minutes.

"Hi!" I said. "Did you have a good weekend?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Only Mei says I shouldn't call her on account of her dad, so I didn't really get to chat w/ her."

Francis stared at him. "I don't know how you did it, but I _heard_ you saying 'with' in chatspeak."

"Huh?"

"Nothing." Francis dropped his backpack on the floor and sat on his desk.

"Oh, yeah," I exclaimed, "did you and Artie have fun talking about the book?"

He looked at me. "What? Uh—yeah, I guess—it wasn't that interesting . . ."

"You're a shitty liar," Al informed him. "But hey, it's none of my business if you two are banging."

Francis groaned. "Why do all of our friends assume that straightaway?"

"You do it too," Al pointed out.

"Banging . . . ?" I said to myself, trying to work out what they meant. "Oh! You mean—"

Al clapped his hand over my mouth. "And it's time for a subject change!" he exclaimed. "So what book _are_ we gonna read next in English? Either of you know?"

I took his hand off my mouth. "Um . . . I think Ms. Kim told us, but I don't remember."

"I think it was The Invisible Man by Wells," Francis said. "Or something like that."

"Oh yeah, that was it," Al exclaimed.

"What's it about?" I asked.

"A mermaid cat," Al said immediately. "No, Feli, I'm joking! I seriously have no idea, other than what the title says."

"Wouldn't a mermaid cat be a catfish?" I wondered aloud.

"Hey, good point!" Al exclaimed. "And a unicorn is a rhino, 'cause they have only one horn!"

"I thought they had two," Francis murmured. "Isn't there a smaller horn behind the large one on the nose?"

"No way," Al declared. "They only have one 'cause they're unicorns."

Francis sighed. "Another subject change: How do you define a hero?"

"Well, let's say there's a big feast," Al said. "A hero shares his food with everyone."

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"A hero is someone who shares his pasta with someone!" I exclaimed. "But then I guess I'm not a hero, 'cause I want all the pasta."

"No, wait, I got it," Al exclaimed. "A hero is a guy with a cape!"

"A guy with a mask?" I asked.

"Yeah," Al said. "So those masked baboon things are heroes!"

"Really?"

"Totally. You just wait, one day you'll be backed up against a cliff edge by a bad guy with a gun, and you'll be all, 'Save me, someone!' and then a masked baboon will swoop in—_with his hero cape_—and rescue you! It'll be totally romantic, and you'll never know who he really is, because heroes don't take off their masks!"

"Wow, that sounds awesome!" I exclaimed. "But I dunno about romantic . . ."

"This conversation took a very weird turn," Francis muttered. "So, Alfred, are you taking wood shop this year?"

"Nah," Al said. "Actually, the teacher from last year, Mr. O—he left."

"He did?"

"Yeah," Al said. "Last year, about a week before school got out, he kind of broke down in front of the class and said something about IKEA and left and never came back. Mr. B supervised the class for the rest of the year."

"I hope he's okay," Francis muttered.

"Well, I guess it was kind of our fault," Al admitted. "We were his only class and we were always kinda rowdy and not really listening to him. That would explain why he let us do our own thing a lot . . ."

"Sounds like he wasn't cut out for teaching," Francis said with a sigh.

The bell rang.

"Oh, yeah," Al said as we went to our desks, "if you and Artie seriously aren't banging, remind me to send him some iris flowers later."

* * *

><p>". . . and then the baboon will save me!" I exclaimed.<p>

Lovi stared at me. "I only started paying attention, like, five seconds ago. What the hell did I miss?"

I took a breath to start over, but he held up a hand. "Actually, I don't wanna know."

"Oh, and mermaid cats are catfish," I added.

"Thanks, you gave me another reason to be glad I'm not in your first period."

* * *

><p><strong>That conversation about heroes and baboons <strong>**_totally_ wasn't borrowed from a manga. I don't know ****_what _you're talking about. Gosh. *hops on train and moves far away***


	18. The Hangman, the Apples, and the Artist

**This chapter and the next one are in mid-December**

* * *

><p>"Hey . . . Feli?"<p>

I leaned over, pretending to pay attention to Ms. Burton. "Yeah?"

"Are we all . . . going out again?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, pretending to write something down.

"Like last year," he clarified. "When we went . . . to dinner."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I guess we are, if we can all go!"

". . . I'm looking forward . . . to it."

Ms. Burton turned around and we quickly stopped talking. Once she'd turned back to the board we leaned in again.

"You wanna play hangman?" I whispered. Herc nodded and I scribbled lines on a corner of my paper while Kiku watched.

"Okay, guess," I whispered.

". . . A," he said. I wrote down an A in the second and last spaces.

"P," he said. I wrote down P in the first space.

"Is it 'pasta?'" he asked.

"Wow, you're right!" I whispered. "Your turn . . ."

I didn't guess his word in time. It was "hungry."

"I'm hungry too," I whispered.

He nodded. "Kiku . . . you wanna try?"

"Okay," he agreed. He put his pencil to his chin in thought and then wrote out five lines. Then he drew a tree with seven apples on it.

"I've always done it this way," he explained. "When all the apples fall, your time is up."

"Oh, okay," I whispered. "P!"

He erased one of the apples and redrew it next to the tree trunk.

"F," Herc suggested. Kiku redrew another apple.

"L?" I asked. Kiku nodded and wrote L in the first space.

We kept guessing and we had one apple left when we got it. It was "lunch."

"Oh, you're hungry too," I whispered. He nodded.

* * *

><p>"So how does the last half of the book go?" I whispered to Lovi.<p>

He stared at me. "Please tell me you're joking."

I shook my head. He groaned. "Feliciano, we were supposed to finish that by today."

"I know," I said. "I just kinda forgot! So what's the last half about?"

He sighed and gave me a quick summary.

"Thanks," I said cheerfully.

"I'm not doing this again," he snapped. "Next time finish the goddamn thing."

"Okay, sorry," I said quickly. "Hey, Lovi, do you and Toni wanna come do the dinner thing again this year?"

"The—oh, yeah," he said. "I guess. Last time was okay . . . Toni will definitely want to go."

"Okay," I said cheerfully. "Hey, what do you wanna be when you're out of school?"

"Like a job?" he asked. "I dunno. There can't be a whole lot of jobs with just a high school degree . . . Toni's probably gonna be something dumb like a hairdresser. What about you?"

"I dunno," I said. "Maybe an artist? I dunno if I have to go to college for that . . ."

"Couldn't hurt to get an art degree," he muttered. "I just dunno . . . I hate the part-time jobs I've had, and there aren't exactly a lot of opportunities to explore what I want to do."

"Maybe _you_ could try art!" I suggested. "Like you can get some paper from the school printer and draw stuff with a pencil!"

"Nah," he muttered. "You were always the better artist. I could never draw for shit."

"But maybe you can get better!" I insisted. "If you haven't drawn for a while . . ."

"Yeah, that's the thing," he said. "I haven't drawn for a while. I don't even know where to start."

". . . Put your pencil on the paper?"

"I meant after that!"

The bell rang and Ms. Kim started talking about the book.


	19. The Menu, the Bar, and the Breakout Plan

"Right, so let's plan this thing out," Al said. He slammed something down in the middle of the table. "Here's the plan, guys."

Everyone leaned in to look.

"This is a restaurant menu," Artie said flatly.

"Yeah," Al said. "Everyone pick what they want and our plan's set."

Ludwig picked it up and hit Al over the head. "Plans involve more than just choosing meals, you idiot."

"That's pretty much what all of _my_ plans are," Al said, rubbing his head.

"We know," Francis sighed. "So, are we going to make _real_ plans?"

"Plans for what?" Mei asked.

Al explained it to her.

"Oh, I see," she said. "I'll have to check with my dad, but . . ."

"I know you don't wanna lie to him," Al said quickly. "You don't have to come—"

Mei cut him off with a quick kiss on the lips.

"Oh," Al said, grinning once she'd pulled away. "Alright then."

"Are we gonna do the same thing as before?" I asked. "Like . . . eating, then bowling?"

"Maybe something a bit different?" Toni suggested. "Like we can eat at a different place, and, uh—karaoke or something?"

"The karaoke place in that area is a bar, too, so we can't go there," Lovi said.

"No, we totally can," Gil said. "Look, we just have to get about—" he did a quick headcount. "—12 fake I.D.s, and then—"

"All in favor of _not_ doing anything illegal?" Ludwig muttered. Everyone raised their hand.

"You guys are no fun," Gil muttered.

"No, wait," Artie said. "The karaoke place _does_ have a bar, but we can still go—"

"—Just not to the booze place?" Al finished.

"Pretty much, yes."

"That sounds like fun!" I exclaimed. "I've never done karaoke before . . ."

"Karaoke is popular in Japan," Kiku commented. "But I never had the chance to go."

"You got the chance now, take it," Gil suggested.

Kiku nodded.

"Karaoke it is," Ludwig said, taking out some paper and writing it down. "So where are we going for dinner?"

"Scarl—"

"No, Alfred."

Al pouted. "We can totally find one."

"I wouldn't put it past you," Artie muttered. "You have an uncanny ability to find fast-food restaurants."

"Can't everyone do that?"

"Never mind."

"How about . . . the pizza place?" Herc said. "I went there once . . . the food's good . . ."

"That sounds good," Ludwig agreed. "All in favor?"

Everyone raised their hands.

"We haven't had pizza in years," Lovi muttered as Ludwig wrote it down.

"Okay," Ludwig said, "so, pizza and then karaoke. Everyone's good with that—? Motion passed, then."

"This sounds like fun," Mei said happily. "If my dad lets me go . . ."

"If he doesn't, I'll kidnap you," Al promised.

"Please don't," Matt said quietly. "You could be arrested."

"Psh, I'll just break out of jail," Al muttered.

"I wouldn't put it past you," Gil said. "You could probably just bend the bars and walk out."

"Yeah, there's an idea! I'll train some masked baboons to help me out, and when I whistle—"

"Oh, good lord, we're _not_ going back to the baboon thing," Francis muttered.

"Baboon—?" Toni started to ask.

"It's better you don't know," Francis said.

Toni shrugged.


	20. The Stalker, the Pizza, and the Tattoo

"Please tell me we didn't go to opposite sides of the street again," Ludwig muttered, squinting across the dark parking lot. He, Gil, Al, Mei, Matt, and me were standing together in front of the restaurant. I was wearing a green sweater, Ludwig and Gil were wearing blue and black T-shirts, Al and Matt were wearing red hoodies, and Mei was wearing a flowing pink dress.

"I don't see anyone," Mei said. She glanced to the side of the parking lot, raised her eyebrows, and quickly looked away.

"They're probably just late," Gil muttered. "Jerks."

"Hey!"

We looked over to see Lovi, Toni, and Francis coming towards us. Lovi and Toni were wheeling their bikes. They were wearing simple T-shirts and sweatpants, and Francis was wearing a blue sweater and jeans.

"We got held up by this bastard," Lovi explained, pointing to Francis. "He and Toni started chatting and made us late."

"It was only at the lot entrance," Francis said. "I didn't think it would take that long."

Toni locked up their bikes to a pole. "So we're still waiting on Artie, Herc, and Kiku?"

"Yeah," I said. "Maybe Herc fell asleep . . . ?"

"Oh yeah, maybe," Gil said. "Artie's usually on time, though. I dunno what's keeping him."

As he said that, a car pulled up in the lot and Artie jumped out. The car drove away as Artie came up to us. He was wearing his green sweater vest. "Sorry I'm late," he muttered. "I had to take care of something."

"No problem," Toni said cheerfully.

We waited around. About ten minutes later we saw Herc and Kiku coming.

"Sorry we're late . . ." Herc said once they'd reached us. "I was about to leave . . . then I got hit with . . . a nap attack . . ."

"Totally fine," Gil said. "C'mon, I'm freezing, let's go inside."

"Well, you two shouldn't have worn T-shirts," Lovi muttered as we went into the restaurant.

"I'm not cold," Ludwig replied. "_Mein Bruder_, on the other hand . . ."

"Yeah, well, I wanted to match with you and I just happen to get cold easier," Gil muttered.

We got a table and sat down and ordered drinks. Some guy came in and sat at a table across the room from us. Mei glanced over at him.

"So what're we gonna talk about?" Toni asked. "I remember we talked about fears last time and about sleeping with each other . . ."

"God, don't bring that up," Lovi muttered.

Toni shrugged. "Lovi, c'mon, this place is pretty noisy. No one's gonna hear us."

Al tried to put his arm around Mei, but she quickly pushed him away. He glanced at her, confused.

"Sorry," she whispered. "But my dad followed me again, so can we just not do anything like that?"

"What?" Al exclaimed.

"He's the guy who came in after us," she said softly. "He does this sometimes when I go out. Don't look now, but he's wearing his fake beard and weird coat."

"What a stalker—sorry," Francis said. "But seriously, doesn't he trust you?"

Mei looked uncomfortable.

"Okay, subject change," Al said quickly.

. . .

"So . . . I hear it's supposed to snow pretty heavily after Christmas," Ludwig said, shifting in his seat.

"Seriously?" Gil said disbelievingly. "You're talking about the _weather_? Wow, you'll make a _great_ boyfriend for—someone." He glanced at me.

"You shut your mouth," Ludwig hissed. "If you've got something better to talk about—"

"Well, I do," Gil said. "If y'all had to get _one_ tattoo, what would it be and where would it be?"

"Okay, you first," Al said.

The waiter brought us our drinks and we ordered our food.

"Easy, the Prussian eagle," Gil said promptly after the waiter left. "Probably on the back or front of one of my shoulders _or_ one of my cheeks."

"Wouldn't getting one in your face hurt?" Toni asked.

"Face—? No, Toni, that's not what I—"

"What's a Prussian eagle?" I asked.

"Oh, do you know what Prussia is?"

"Well . . ." I hesitated. "You've told me about it before . . ."

"You've told _all_ of us about it before," Artie muttered. "Incessantly."

"Wasn't it a country in Europe that got taken apart after WWII?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Gil said. "Here, hold on—" he took out his phone, did something, and showed me the picture. It was a black bird with a yellow beak.

"Ooh, cool," I exclaimed.

"You have a picture of it saved on your phone?" Matt asked.

"Well, yeah."

"I'd get a _bald_ eagle," Al said. "A real big one, like the head's on my back, and the wings stretch all the way to my elbows—"

"Oh, cool," Gil said. "So like, you move your arms and the eagle's flapping its wings?"

"Yeah!"

"I think I'd get a little polar bear cub," Matt said. "On my shoulder . . ."

"A tattoo . . ." Kiku said to himself. "I have a lot of things I would want to have . . . the letters A-S-C-E on my left arm; the letters D-E-A-T-H on my fingers; a _homonkurusu_ sign on my shoulder; a dragon ball on my back . . ." he looked down. "I'm sorry, there are a lot."

"Nah, that's cool," Al said cheerfully. "Neat ideas!"

"A cat for me," Herc said. "On my . . . lower back."

"Ooh, sexy," Francis said teasingly. "I suppose I'd want . . . a heart over my real heart."

"Of course you do," Gil said, rolling his eyes.

"I think I'd get a butterfly on my right shoulder," Mei said. "Probably a blue one."

"Nice," Al said cheerfully.

"I guess I'd get the Deathly Hallows symbol on my chest," Artie said.

"What's the—?"

"A line inside a circle inside a triangle."

"Oh."

"A heart with the word 'family' inside!" I exclaimed. "On my back!"

"That's cute," Toni exclaimed. "I'd want a tomato on my shoulder!"

"Dammit, Toni, I was gonna say tomato," Lovi snapped. "Fine, the same thing, I guess."

"Aw, we'd match!"

Lovi rolled his eyes.

"I suppose I'd have . . . a heart with 'F' inside, on my chest," Ludwig said.

Gil smirked. "Well, we know what _that's_ about."

Ludwig glared at him. "It's not what you—oh, never mind."

"Does getting a tattoo hurt? Damn, that was fast," Gil added as our food was brought to the table.

"I dunno," Toni said, starting on his pizza. "I've heard it really hurts, but I've also heard it doesn't hurt a lot."

"Maybe it depends on where you get it?" Al asked. "Like, getting one on your forearm would hurt more than getting one on your back or something?"

"Oh yeah, that's probably it," Gil said.

"Is anyone . . . going anywhere . . . for Christmas?" Herc asked.

"No, I guess I'm staying home," Francis said.

"Same here," Arthur said.

"Where the hell would we go?" Lovi demanded.

"No," Ludwig, Gil, and me said at the same time.

"I'm staying home," Kiku said.

"I think my dad and I are going to visit grandma and grandpa," Mei said, her eyes briefly flickering to the side, where her dad (still in disguise) was drinking something.

"We're stayin' here," Al said, patting Matt on the shoulder.

Herc shrugged. "I'm staying home . . ."

"Wow, we're all boring people," Gil said, grinning.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**Mein Bruder = My brother**

**Homonkurusu = Homunculus**


	21. The Good, the Bad, and the Okay Singers

After we'd finished dinner, we went to the karaoke bar. When we sat at a table booth, we looked around. There was someone finishing a song up on stage and people sitting around at the bar on the other side. About a minute later someone who worked here came up to us and asked if we wanted drinks.

"I'll have a beer—"

"We're all underage," Ludwig said quickly. Gil frowned at him.

We ordered some drinks and sat around. The guy with the fake beard and weird coat—Mei's dad—came in and sat at a table near us.

"So, uh . . ." Francis shifted in his seat. "How does this work?"

"We sign up over there," Ludwig said, pointing to a thing on the wall as someone else went up on stage. "We write our name and the song we want—they have a list next to the paper. Then the DJ calls up our name, we go up, sing the song, and go back down."

"Oh, I see," Artie said. "Well, who's going first?"

"I'll go!" Al exclaimed. He stood up.

"Karaoke is a lot different in Japan," Kiku said.

"Huh? You guys have karaoke?" Toni asked.

Kiku nodded. "Oh, yes, it's very popular. Usually, you can buy—er—" he frowned. "What is it when you pay for something, but it doesn't belong to you?"

". . . Oh, you mean rent?" Artie asked.

Kiku nodded as Al came back—I guess he'd left at some point. "Thank you. Usually, you can rent a private room. Servers bring you food and drinks that you order while you sing. Usually the singing isn't like this, when you sing in front of people you didn't come with."

"Oh, I see," Toni said.

"Aren't any of you losers gonna sign up?" Al said impatiently.

"I don't sing," Lovi muttered.

"I'll go!" I exclaimed.

"Kiku, are you gonna sing?" Gil asked. "I mean—the songs are in English, and I dunno if you're used to reading the words that fast—"

Kiku smiled. "I will sing one song. There are some Western songs that are popular in Japan."

Me and him got up and we went to go sign up. I went first, and I didn't see what song he wrote down.

When we sat back down, the guy called, "Alfred F. Jones!"

Al jumped up and went up to the stage. He grabbed the mike and yelled, "Hey, everyone! How're we all doing today!?"

No one said anything. Gil started laughing silently, his shoulders shaking.

". . . No? Well, fine. Hit it!"

The music started.

"_I hopped off the plane at LAX, with a dream and my cardigan . . ._"

"Oh, god," Artie muttered. "He knows I hate this song."

"_So I put my hands up! They're playin' my song, and the butterflies fly away!_"

"Goddammit, of _all_ the songs," Gil said, laughing out loud.

"_Yeah, it's a party in the USA!_"

When he finished, everyone clapped. He came back to the table and sat down.

"How was that?" he said cheerfully.

"You're not a bad singer," Francis admitted. "But that _song_ . . ."

"What's wrong with it?"

Francis sighed. "Nothing."

"Don't listen to him, you were great," Mei said cheerfully.

"Feliciano Vargas-Edelstein!"

"Why do you have to put your full name?" Lovi muttered as I stood up. "Just put Vargas."

"Because I like Eliza!" I exclaimed. I went up on stage and took the mike and waited. I couldn't see anyone in the audience because of the lights on the stage.

The song started and I opened my mouth.

"_Summer after high school, when we first met . . ._"

The words on the screen helped me remember what to say.

"_Never dreamed that one day, I'd be losing you . . ._"

I almost missed the next lines.

"_In an— . . . life . . . I would be your girl. . . . We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world . . ._"

_. . ._

"_So I don't have to say you were the one that got away . . ._"

When the song ended, everyone clapped. I put down the mike and went back to the table.

"You have a great singing voice," Gil said.

"Good job," Ludwig said with a smile.

"Oh, I forgot to mention it," Kiku said. "I found a Japanese song, and I'm going to sing that one."

"Man, I would've liked to hear you try out an American one," Al said. "Well, go for it."

"Kiku Honda!"

Kiku got up and went up to the stage and took the mike. He shuffled his feet and waited. The song started.

"_Ue o muite arukou, namida ga . . ._"

"What song is this?" Al muttered.

"It's called _Sukiyaki_," Matt said softly. "We've heard it before, remember? Mom and dad used to play it in the car."

"Oh, yeah, that's where I heard it," Al said.

"_Shiawase wa kumo no ue ni . . . Shiawase wa sora no ue ni . . ._"

When the song ended, everyone applauded and Kiku bowed and came back to the table.

"Nice job," Matt said with a smile.

Herc gave Kiku a thumbs-up. "Good job . . ."

Artie, Francis, and Herc went to go sign up.

"Arthur Kirkland!"

Artie went up on stage and waited.

"_My wild Irish rose . . ._"

"What song is this?" Gil muttered.

"_My Wild Irish Rose_—it's a traditional Irish song," Ludwig muttered.

"_She may let me take . . . the bloom from my wild Irish rose!_"

Everyone clapped when the song ended and Artie came back to the table.

"You're better than I thought you'd be," Francis said approvingly.

Artie scowled. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Just take the compliment."

"Francis Bonnefoy!"

Francis stood and went to the stage.

"_Turn around . . . every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you're never comin' round . . ._"

"Whoa, that's pretty good," Gil muttered.

"I like this song," I said cheerfully.

"_Once upon a time I was falling in love, and now I'm only falling apart . . ._"

When it ended, everyone clapped. Francis came back to the table.

"You're better than I thought you'd be," Artie muttered.

Francis raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Just take the compliment."

* * *

><p>Everyone else eventually sang. Herc, Toni, and Lovi were really good. Gil and Matt sang a duet together, but I could barely hear Matt. Ludwig couldn't find a song he wanted to sing, so he didn't do it. Mei was . . . well, Gil covered his ears, and Al's smile looked a little bit frozen.<p>

"You did great," Al whispered when Mei came back, glaring at the rest of us.

"Really?" Mei asked, pushing him away when he tried to hug her.

"Well—yeah."

Mei laughed.

* * *

><p>"Man, that was fun," Al said as we went out of the karaoke place after paying. "Can't wait for next year!"<p>

"This is our thing," Gil said cheerfully. "We gotta keep doing this every year."

"Yeah, it wasn't bad," Lovi muttered.

"It was great," Toni exclaimed.

"It was a lot of fun," Mei said happily.

"It was fun," Artie and Francis said together.

"We should get going, it's almost midnight," Ludwig said.

"Yeah, it's late," I said. Herc yawned hugely.

Eliza pulled up in the car.

"Bye, guys!"

* * *

><p><strong>Al sang <em>Party in the USA<em> by Miley Cyrus**

**Feli sang _The One that Got Away_ by Katy Perry**

**Kiku sang _Sukiyaki_, sung by Kyu Sakamoto**

**Artie sang _My Wild Irish Rose_, a traditional Irish song**

**Francis sang _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ by Bonnie Tyler**

**And although they were not technically in the chapter...**

**Herc sang _Can't Get No Satisfaction_ by the Rolling Stones**

**Toni sang _Rose Tattoo_ by Dropkick Murphy's**

**Lovi sang _Viva La Vida_ by Coldplay**

**Gil and Mattie sang _A Whole New World_ from Disney's _Aladdin_**

**Mei sang _What's Up _by 4 Non-Blondes**

**You can find all these songs on YouTube :) I recommend THIS version of "What's Up:"**

** /watch?v=ZZ5LpwO-An4**


	22. The Visit, the Game, and the Cuddling

**Narrator: Gilbert**

* * *

><p>I strode up to the front door and knocked. It was still snowing and I shivered a bit even though I was wearing pretty thick clothes.<p>

A minute later the door opened and I saw Mattie. He smiled.

"Hey, Gil," he said, stepping aside to let me in. I kicked off my boots and took off my jacket. Underneath I had on a black sweater.

"Hey, Mattie," I said, pulling him into a hug. "Thanks for inviting me!"

"No problem," he said softly, kissing me on the cheek. "Mom and dad are out until tomorrow evening, so we've got the house to ourselves."

Alfie poked his head over the top of the stairs. "Hi, Gil!" he yelled. "You staying for dinner or what?"

"Mostly to ourselves," Mattie corrected quietly.

I grinned. "Don't worry about it," I muttered. "Wasn't planning on it, Alfie!"

Alfie shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He retreated down the hall.

"You wanna watch the hockey game?" Mattie asked as we went up the stairs.

"Sure," I said, sitting with him on the couch. "Who's playing?"

"Canada and Russia," he said, flicking through the channels to find it.

"You never really struck me as the sports type," I commented.

He took off his sweater to reveal a red sports jersey underneath.

"Huh." I laughed. "Well, y'know, you're so quiet . . . so I never realized."

"You think so?" he asked, smiling a bit as he found the channel.

"Well, yeah."

* * *

><p>"GET HIM! GO, GO, GO! COME ON, YOU WIMPS!"<p>

I stared at Mattie as he stood and yelled at the players on TV.

"SHOOT! SHOO—GOD DAMN IT! FOUL! PENALTY!"

"Mattie, are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"GET OFF THE ICE, LOSERS! THIS GAME'S GOING TO CANADA!"

I turned and kept watching the game quietly.

"GOAL! TAKE THAT, YOU RUSSIAN FUCKERS!"

* * *

><p>Canada ended up winning. Mattie cheered pretty loudly and calmed down considerably after that.<p>

"That was a good game," he said softly, smiling.

"Right," I said, staring at him. "So who are you and what did you do with Mattie?"

He looked down. "Sorry, I get excited watching hockey games."

I laughed, ruffled his hair, and kissed him. "I can tell."

He smiled and put his arm around me, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Wow, that snow's really coming down!"

We looked up to see Alfie standing by the couch, staring out the window.

"Gil, you wanna spend the night?" he continued. "You can't really walk home in this."

"Sure," I said. "Mattie, that okay with you?"

He nodded.

"Alright, lovebirds, I'll get dinner on the stove," Alfie said, turning to go in the kitchen. "Mac 'n cheese for everyone!"

As soon as he was gone, Mattie and I started cuddling again.

"_Gil?_"

From the way he said my name, I realized I must've accidentally tugged his hair curl when I'd ruffled his hair. "Mm?"

He snuggled closer into me. "_Je t'aime, mon ange aux yeux rouges_."

I'd only understood "Je t'aime," but it was enough.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

**Je t'aime, mon ange aux yeux rouges = I love you, my red-eyed angel**


	23. The Fight, the Collapse, and the Thunder

**I apologize ahead of time for the racist slur in this chapter.**

**Also, forgot to mention it before - this chapter, the previous one, and the next one take place on the same day/evening during winter break, sometime after Christmas.**

**Narrator: Kiku**

* * *

><p>Hercules and I started walking back to his house. We were petting the cats when he proposed we take a walk around the town. We were coming back from the walk now. It was snowing a little bit.<p>

We were very close to his house now. As we walked next to an alley, someone suddenly grabbed my shirt and pulled me into the alley.

"Ah!" I exclaimed.

The person held me against the wall and his partner shoved his hands into my pants' pockets. They were boys and they looked like they were older than me and Hercules.

"Where's your money, Chinaman?" the second boy said, searching my pockets.

"Stop!" I exclaimed. "Please—_Teishi shite kudasai! Boku wa okane o motteinai!_"

The boy holding me made a face. "Was that an insult?"

I kicked the boy holding me on his leg. He let go and I tried to run away, but he grabbed me again and punched me.

"Keep searching his pockets," he told the other boy. "Don't try to get away, you little bitch."

"He's Japanese."

I looked over and I saw Hercules standing next to us. The boys looked up too.

"What?" the boy holding me asked.

"He's not Chinese," Hercules said slowly. "He's Japanese. Either way . . . you're being pretty rude, aren't you?"

"Hercules, I'm okay," I said quietly. "Please don't worry."

"Who's being rude, you little punk?" exclaimed the boy who was looking through my pockets. He stood up and tried to punch Hercules—

—but Hercules ducked and suddenly punched the boy very hard in the middle. The boy coughed and fell down. There's an English expression I've heard called "Getting the wind knocked out of you."

"Hey!" yelled the other boy. He let go of me and tried to kick Hercules. Hercules quickly blocked his leg with his own leg, leaned back, and punched the boy in the face.

"Come on," he said to me. He quickly grabbed my arm and brought us out of the alley.

When we were far away from the alley, we stopped and he looked at me. "Sorry I couldn't get there sooner," he said, breathing hard. "Are you okay?"

His hands brushed against my face where the boy had punched me. I winced and nodded.

"It isn't a bad . . . hit," I said. Whenever I was nervous, my words sometimes got mixed up. Or I forgot them. "I—thank you, Hercules—I'm sorry—"

He breathed out. "Good . . ." he said quietly. "I'm glad . . . you're . . ."

Suddenly his face . . . what was the word? It went loose. His eyes closed halfway and his legs bent. He fell down.

"Hercules!" I exclaimed. I went down next to him and looked at his face. He was still breathing. I sighed.

"Can you . . . I'm talk . . . understand?" I said quickly. My words came out mixed up. I took a deep breath and said, "Can you hear me?"

He didn't answer. I put my hand under his head and moved his body on his back. He was still breathing and his eyes were a little bit open.

"Are . . . did you go to sleep?" I asked. "Hercules, I'll try to bring you to your house."

I lifted him up under his arms and went down on my knees. I put one of his arms around my shoulders and stood up very slowly. He was very heavy. I started bringing him slowly to his house. The snow started falling faster.

We were very close to his house when he moved.

"Hercules?"

"Kiku . . ." he said quietly. "Thank you . . ."

"It's nothing," I said. "Can you walk?"

". . . Kind of . . ." He started walking but he didn't move his arm from my shoulders.

"Are you okay?" I asked. "You fell down suddenly."

He nodded. "I'm okay . . . but . . . are you?"

"I'm okay," I said. "Please, let's go inside."

I talked to Hercules's mother. I liked her. She was very nice and had pretty brown eyes. She asked me to stay for dinner and I said yes. I called my mother and told her.

* * *

><p>After dinner was finished, Hercules and I sat on the couch. He had taken a nap before dinner and his mother had gone to bed.<p>

"You've got . . . a bruise," he said softly, touching my cheek.

"It doesn't hurt a lot," I said. "You protected me."

"Don't worry . . . about it," he said, yawning.

"Why did you . . . fall down?" I asked.

He moved his position a little bit. "It's . . . called cataplexy."

"Cat . . . ?"

He smiled a bit. "Cataplexy. . . . It's like . . . after strong emotion . . . or a sudden effort . . . my muscles get weak . . . and I fall down. But . . . I'm still aware . . . of what's happening."

"Oh," I said quietly.

"It hasn't . . . happened in a while," he continued. "It's part of . . . narcolepsy."

"I understand," I said quietly.

He looked out of the window. "It's . . . really coming down."

I looked outside. The snow was very thick on the ground.

"Do you . . . want to stay . . . the night?" he asked. "You shouldn't . . . walk home . . . in this."

"I—stay here?" I asked. "Er—I—that's okay—"

"You don't . . . want to?" he asked.

"No—I mean—" I stopped talking and took a deep breath. "I mean to say I do want to. Thank you."

He smiled.

* * *

><p>It was very dark when there was suddenly lightning and thunder outside. I woke up very suddenly and sat up on the couch quickly. I was breathing hard.<p>

Outside there was another lightning and thunder strike. I got up and went down the hall quickly to find Hercules.

"Hercules?" I whispered.

He was sitting up and looked over at me. "Kiku?" he said quietly. "What're you . . . doing up?"

"Well—" I paused. "I heard the storm . . . and I thought you might be scared . . ."

There was another thunder boom outside and I jumped.

"Er—" I shuffled my feet. "Why are . . . you up?"

He shrugged. "I . . . just woke up. It . . . happens sometimes."

"Oh . . . okay," I said. "I'll go to the couch again."

He pulled back the covers of his bed. I saw that he was wearing a big T-shirt and boxers. "You can . . . stay here . . . if you want."

"What?" I exclaimed. "But—" I felt my face become hot. "I mean—only people who are a couple shares a bed—!"

He stared at me. "Then . . . do you want . . . to be a couple?"

I stared at him. "What?"

"Let's . . . start dating," he said softly. "Then . . . it'll be okay . . . right?"

I didn't say anything for one minute.

". . . Okay," I said softly.

I went into bed with him. The thunder outside boomed again and I automatically moved closer to him for comfort.

"It's okay . . ." he said quietly.

He was very warm.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

**Teishi shite kudasai! Boku wa okane o motteinai! = Stop it! I don't have any money!**


	24. The Family, the Magic, and the Trust

**Narrator: Francis**

* * *

><p>As the snow fell lightly around me, I approached the front door and knocked lightly. For once, Dean didn't answer—instead, I found myself facing Arthur as the door swung open.<p>

"Hi," he said softly. "Come on in."

He stepped aside and I came in, slipping off my shoes and jacket. He seemed to be holding something, but I didn't really notice what it was.

"Well, you know the way," he said. As I followed him upstairs, I heard his older brothers, Dean and Seamus, talking in the living room beyond. On the stairwell, I noticed a few pictures: A child who appeared to be a young Dean with a blonde woman who looked a lot like Arthur and a young man with brown hair and eyes exactly like Arthur's; a slightly older Dean with a young Arthur and the blonde woman (who I assumed was their mother); and a picture from a few years ago of Arthur, Dean, Colin and James, and Seamus.

We reached his room (I could hear Colin and James talking about something in their room). He sat on his bed (still holding something, I thought, but I still wasn't bothered to notice what it was) while I looked around and spotted a wooden chair and cushion which certainly hadn't been there last time.

"Sit?" he offered, gesturing to the chair. I shrugged and sat down. He breathed a sigh of apparent relief.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"Well," he said. "That was the first chair I've ever made, and I wasn't sure if it was stable or not."

I glanced down at it. "You made this? I didn't know you were into woodworking."

"I'm not," he muttered.

I stared at him. "For someone who doesn't do this often, it's a very good chair."

"Enough about the chair," he said, even though he was the one who'd brought it up. "I owe you an explanation or two."

I waited, shifting in the chair. As I did so, one of the legs snapped and I fell suddenly.

"Oh, come _on_," Arthur exclaimed. "I thought it was fine . . ."

"It held out for a good minute," I said, quirking a smile. "Since this is your first, that's a new record."

He glared at me for a moment, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "I guess so."

I came over and sat next to him on his bed.

"I . . ." he began slowly. "Well, my family's pretty messed-up."

"No kidding," I muttered. My eyes widened. "Sorry, I didn't mean—"

He smirked. "Don't worry about it."

After a moment, he continued.

"Dean and I are brothers. Our dad died when my mother was carrying me, and my mom died when I was seven. Before she died, she remarried because she thought we should have a father."

His hands tightened—well, I think they did. I was having a little bit of trouble looking at his lap.

"That bastard who came to the door a couple months ago _was_ my stepfather," he continued. "He already had had Colin and James and Seamus with his first wife. I don't know what happened to her. He was nice enough at first, but after my mother died . . . he showed his true face."

Arthur bit his lip.

"He got drunk all the time . . . I remember that he'd hit Seamus and Dean a lot if they mouthed off, which . . . happened a lot more later on. Colin and James managed to hide somewhere, usually, so he couldn't touch them. I . . . he would hit me a lot, and he would say that he was sick of seeing my face and throw me into a closet and lock the door. There was never any light on in there—it was small and dark—"

Arthur took a deep breath.

"This kept happening . . . for two or three years. One night . . . he'd thrown me in the closet and yelled at Seamus and Dean . . . and then he passed out drunk. Seamus let me out, and said he wouldn't let his dad hurt us anymore . . . and he called the cops. A lot of stuff happened . . . Seamus was an adult, so he got custody of all of us . . . after that bastard got his parental rights taken away. We've been living together like this ever since."

". . . I . . ." I stared at him. "That's . . . I'm so sorry."

He bowed his head over his lap. "Don't worry about it. . . . It's all in the past. Seamus wouldn't—my brothers won't let him hurt us anymore."

I hesitantly put my arm around his shoulders.

After a minute he brushed it off. "Thanks for listening. . . . I haven't really talked about this."

"No problem," I said reassuringly.

He smiled. "During that last year, I had company."

"Oh?"

"I met my friends," he explained. "Fern, Marigold, Rowan, and Sage."

I smiled. "Odd names. Those are all plants, aren't they?"

He nodded. "I gave them those names."

I looked at him, raising my eyebrow. "Er . . . what?"

He moved his hands like he was placing something beside him (and I'm sure there was something there, but I was more interested in what Arthur was doing) and stood, going to his dresser. He took something out of one of the drawers—a wooden box—and opened it. He took out that magic-wand-type thing I'd seen him take out last time; some kind of smooth rod with a star on the end.

"Fern is a unicorn pony," he said. "She loves fresh leaves in the springtime; Marigold is a pixie and she likes to wear orange rain-boots; Rowan is a brownie—an elf to you, and he loves traditional Irish dances; and Sage is a . . . well, a flying green rabbit, and she loves being pet."

I took out my phone and went to the search engine.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm looking up the closest psychiatrist," I explained, typing this in. "Arthur, don't worry, I can get you help."

He scowled. "You know, I only told you because I thought I could trust you."

"You can," I said absently, scrolling through the results. "I'm trying to find a _trustworthy_ psychiatrist."

"Will you put that thing away and let me explain?"

I reluctantly stowed my phone in my pocket and waited.

"Magic is real," he said abruptly.

"Right," I muttered. I took out my phone again.

"I'm not finished!"

I looked up at him. "If you're not going to let me help you—"

He pointed the object in his hand at me threateningly. I raised an eyebrow but put my phone down.

"Magic is real," he repeated, twirling the rod between his fingers. "I . . . our mother was a wizard. Dean and I," he added for clarification. "Our father—our _biological_ father—he was a mortal."

"Immortal?"

"_A_ mortal," he repeated. "One mortal. One non-magical being."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Go on."

He looked at me suspiciously. "A little after I turned nine . . . it was a bit difficult, but I managed to gain the Sight; that is, I got the ability to see magical beings. After that I started practicing magic with this." He gestured to the rod thing.

"Right," I said. Clearly he was delusional. "Arthur, seriously, there's a psychiatrist only about five miles from here . . ."

"Don't make me hex you," he said threateningly, raising what I assumed he thought was his 'magic wand.'

"Uh-huh," I muttered.

He lowered his wand and sighed. "I don't have any practice with nonverbal hexes anyway."

"So if you're a wizard—" I began.

"Demi-wizard—"

"Right, a—sorry?"

"My father was mortal and my mother was a wizard. Dean and I are demi-wizards."

I shrugged. "Whatever works for you. If you're a _demi-wizard_, why don't you use magic to solve all your problems?"

He frowned. "Magic can't solve everything. I can't make money appear, for example; I _could_, but it'd be very difficult, since it'd cause all kinds of counterfeit and economic problems. As for creating things, I'd need the supplies necessary. For example . . ." he pointed to the broken chair. "I made that chair. I gathered together the wood, cotton, and cloth I needed, and just . . . did the right spell."

I glanced at the chair. "Right. I'm sure you did."

He scowled heavily. "Why are we even doing this? There's an easier way to prove it, isn't there?"

"And that is?"

He pointed his wand at the chair, moved it in a slow circle, and jabbed it outwards.

I nearly fell off the bed; as I watched, the chair leg reattached itself. The splinters flew back into place, and when it was back in one piece, there was no crack or any other indication that it had ever broken.

"There we go," he muttered. "It'll break again if you try to sit on it, though."

I stared at the chair.

"Well," he said, continuing as if I had asked _why_ it would break again, "when I made this earlier, my spellwork was a bit off, and the wood didn't even out where it was supposed to. The wood in that leg ended up being too thin. I only reattached the leg, so the wood's still too thin. If I wanted to make it sturdier, I'd—"

He stopped talking and walked in front of me. I blinked and looked up at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "I guess this must be a bit of a shock."

"More like a hallucination," I said. I looked around the room, rubbed my eyes, pinched my wrist, and slowly stood up.

"What are you doing?"

"I guess . . . I'm not dreaming," I said. I sat down hard on the bed and put my head in my hands.

Could magic . . . really be real?

"Do something else," I demanded, staring at Arthur. "Make—make something appear from thin air. Change your appearance. Float something across the room."

He smirked. "I already told you, I can't make something unless I have the materials. Changing my appearance is something I'd need a potion for, and trust me, that is _not_ worth the trouble for this. But . . ."

He raised his wand and pointed it at his window. He pressed his lips together and slowly moved it up. As he did so, the latch turned slowly with a _click_ and the window raised itself up.

He lowered the wand and let out a shaky sigh. "That's not my forte," he muttered. "Do you believe me now?"

I stared at the window. He really hadn't touched it—he'd just—pointed.

"It's . . . real," I said blankly.

He grinned and sat next to me. "Yep."

He seemed oddly happy. I realized that he probably didn't get the chance to show this off a lot, and he did seem talented.

"You . . ." I stared at him. "Can . . . _anyone_ become a wizard?"

The smile slipped off his face. "No," he said at last. "I . . . I was born to a wizard and a mortal, so I'm a demi-wizard with Dean. You'd need to have at least one magical parent."

I nodded slowly. "I . . . I see."

He twirled his wand between his fingers—this _demi-wizard_—who could really perform acts some might call miracle—he just sat there and twirled that powerful object between his fingers!

"My mother's brother," he said at last. "Alfred and Matthew's dad . . ."

I waited.

"My grandparents," he said, apparently starting over. "They were both demi-wizards. When . . . if two demi-wizards bear a child, the child will either be a full wizard or a full mortal. My mother was a full wizard . . . and my uncle is a full mortal. Before they parted ways . . . my mother . . . wiped his memories of magic, so he couldn't reveal their secret."

My mouth popped open slightly. After a moment I recovered. "That seems . . . wow," I muttered. "Wow."

He shrugged. "It was the best option for everyone . . . well, that's what Dean told me, from what our mother told him."

"So . . ." I was still struggling to understand all this new information. "Dean . . . can use magic as well?"

"Technically," he admitted. "But he's never been very interested in it. Wizards are born with magical powers and the Sight and must learn to control them—the powers. Demi-wizards are born with the ability to use magic and the ability to gain the Sight through . . . a certain process. Wizards don't need a wand."

"I . . . I see," I murmured, staring at the wand in his hands.

He glanced at me and smiled. "By the way, I think I should apologize for last year."

"Hm?"

"Remember when I dragged you away, tied you up, blindfolded you, said some strange things, and then you had a bad day?"

"Vaguely."

He stared at me. I stared back and suddenly my eyes widened in understanding.

"Did you curse me?" I demanded, leaping up and staring at him in disbelief.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Technically it was a jinx."

"You curs—_jinxed_ me to have a bad day?" I asked. "I don't even remember what I did!"

"Insulted my mother," he responded.

"I apologized for that," I muttered. "Didn't I?"

"Yes," he admitted. "Sorry, I let my temper get the best of me."

I stared at him. Eventually I sat back down in silence.

"So," I said at last. "What's to stop me from going out and telling the world?"

He smiled. "Your loyalty, the fact that no one will believe you, and the fact that I could wipe your memories of what happened tonight."

I stared at him. "You know how to do that?"

"I've never done it, so to be honest I may in fact give you total amnesia," he admitted. "Of course, I could just drop a brick on your head and hope for the best."

I scowled. "I'd make you pay my hospital bill."

"With no memory of who dropped the brick?"

"Touché."

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "Oh, damn, I'm late," I muttered. "_Mère_ said that—"

My phone buzzed and I checked it.

"Oh," I said, glancing out the window. "She said that she can't drive in these conditions."

Arthur stood and looked out. "Jesus, that's thick."

I grinned. "Well, you wouldn't make me walk home in this, would you?"

"I most certainly would," he said. "But you live too far away and I'm feeling generous. Stay the night."

"Thanks," I said, surprised. I smirked. "Don't suppose you're going to make a bed?"

He looked over. "I could make one out of that chair, but it'd snap the second you touched it. You can take the couch downstairs."

"Fair enough."

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

**Mère = Mother**


	25. The Corrupt, the Couple, and the French

**January, day after winter break**

* * *

><p>I came into first period as Al and Francis were setting their stuff down.<p>

"Hi, guys!" I exclaimed. "How was your break?"

"Yo, Feli," Alfred said. "Pretty good, how was yours?"

"It was fun! Me and Eliza made cookies together," I said as I set my stuff down.

"Francis, what about you?" Al asked.

Francis shrugged. "Hm . . . I'd say . . . enlightening?"

"What, did you read one of those boring old books that Artie reads?" Al asked.

Francis shrugged. "Anyway, Gil was telling me he got to spend the night at your place?"

Al nodded. "Yeah, he got snowed in, so we let him stay. Mattie and him were pretty happy, I guess." He frowned. "Too bad Mei couldn't have been there . . ."

I frowned. "Are you talking about having sex again?"

Al coughed and stared at me. "We're corrupting Feli! Francis, this is your fault!"

"What?" Francis and me asked.

"Why am I corrupted?" I asked, confused.

"Why is it _my_ fault?" Francis demanded.

"Because your mind's going to _that_ right away," Al said to me. "And Francis, because you're a pervert."

"What—? How am I a pervert!?"

"You know how!"

"I . . ." he trailed off and glanced at me. "Wait, did you find out?"

"Find out?"

"About . . ." he gestured to me—wait, he was gesturing to my hair.

"Al, you figured it out?" I squeaked. "Please don't tell anyone!"

"What the hell are you guys on about?" Al asked blankly. "Did I figure something out?"

Francis sighed. "Oh, never mind. Feli, you're safe, he doesn't know."

"Oh, okay."

"What don't I know!?"

"The answer to that could fill a hundred books!"

The bell rang.

* * *

><p>In second period, I noticed that as Herc and Kiku sat down, Herc leaned over and kissed Kiku's cheek.<p>

I stared at them.

"Morning . . ." Herc said sleepily.

Kiku's face was pink. "Good morning, Feliciano."

"Are you two . . ." I trailed off, looking between them.

"Yeah," Herc said.

"Oh, good for you!" I exclaimed. "How did you guys start?"

Herc shrugged. "It just . . . kinda happened."

Kiku stared at him. "You told me to come into your bed! I don't think this is 'It just kind of happened!'"

"You asked what?" I asked. "Did you want to have—?"

"No," Herc interrupted, stretching. "It was . . . just cold out."

"Oh."

* * *

><p>"Hi, Lovi!" I said as I sat down in third period. "How was your break?"<p>

"Fucking freezing," he muttered. "Every goddamn winter, I swear to god . . . they never fix the damn drafts in the goddamn building . . ."

"But you and Toni could keep each other warm, right?"

Lovi stared at me.

"What?"

* * *

><p>"So you guys are, like, a thing now?" Al asked, staring at Herc and Kiku.<p>

Herc nodded. "It just . . . kinda happened."

Kiku stared at him but didn't say anything.

"_Felicitations_," Matt said quietly.

Gil reached out to pull his hair curl, but Matt held up a hand. "_Non, c'est plus amusant. Je veux dire, que Francis peut me comprendre_."

Francis stared at Matt. Matt smiled and shrugged.

"I really gotta learn French one of these days," Gil muttered.

"_Je pourrais t'enseigner,_" Matt said.

"_Je pense encore qu'il est bizarre; ta boucle change ta langue . . . alors c'est _seulement _cette boucle? Aucun des autres?_" Francis asked.

Matt shrugged. "_Tu peux essayer, mais je déjà le fait_."

"You two are giving me a headache," Artie muttered. "Can you speak like _normal _people?"

Matt and Francis looked at him.

"_Dire qu'une personne normale, c'est pas amusant,_" Matt said.

Francis shrugged. "_Je sais pas, Mathieu. Parfois d'être normale est bien_."

"If you two don't stop speaking French I'm going to hit you with my history textbook," Ludwig snapped.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**Felicitations = Congratulations**

**Non, c'est plus amusant. Je veux dire, que Francis peut me comprendre. = No, this is more fun. I mean, only Francis can understand me.**

**Je pourrais t'enseigner = I could teach you**

**Je pense encore qu'il est bizzare; ta boucle change ta langue... alors c'est seulement cette boucle? Aucun des autres? = I still think it's weird; your curl changes your language... so it's only that curl? None of the others?**

**Tu peux essayer, mais je deja le fait. = You can try, but I already have.**

**Dire qu'une personne normale, c'est pas amusant = Talking like a normal person isn't as fun**

**Je sais pas, Mathieu. Parfois d'etre normale est bien. = I don't know, Matthew. Sometimes being normal is good.**


	26. The Hug, the War, and the Riddles

**We're time-skipping into February for the next four chapters. You should be able to tell the date(s) from what they say.**

* * *

><p>When I went into history class, I looked over and saw Herc and Kiku in the corner. Herc was hugging Kiku from behind and Kiku was glancing around. He looked like he was trying to get out of the hug.<p>

"Hi, guys," I said cheerfully, coming over to them. "What're you doing?"

"It's Kiku's birthday . . ." Herc said softly. "So I'm giving him . . . a birthday hug . . ."

"I—I say—I said—do not—" Kiku looked like he was having trouble talking. His face was a bit red. He took a deep breath. "I told you, Hercules . . . not in public . . ."

"But you're warm . . ." Herc said, leaning in. "And . . . it's cold . . . in here."

Kiku looked at me. I set down my stuff and pulled Herc's arms off of him. He was pretty strong, so it was kind of hard.

"The bell's gonna ring soon anyway," I said just before the bell rang.

Herc sighed and kissed Kiku on the cheek. "Happy birthday," he said quietly.

"Happy birthday, Kiku," I exclaimed as we went to sit down.

"Thank you . . ." he said quietly, his face red.

Ms. Burton started the lesson. We were learning about World War One.

"Wait, so . . ." I whispered. "Italy betrayed their allies right away?"

"Yeah," Herc whispered.

"Wow," I said. "Didn't they back out in the second war too?"

"Yes," Kiku said softly, concentrating on writing notes.

"Lesson learned . . . don't trust Italy . . . in a war," Herc said quietly.

"They probably had good reasons," I defended.

"Like what . . . ?"

I shrugged.

* * *

><p>At lunch, everyone wished Kiku a happy birthday after Herc told them. Kiku thanked them.<p>

"Oh, since we're learning about World War One in history . . ." Artie said. "I've got a riddle."

"Go for it, I totally got this," Al said, leaning in.

Artie cleared his throat. "An old man was telling his grandson a story. 'At the end of World War One,' he said, 'I was given an award by my commanding officer. You see, I had saved a group of my men by picking up an enemy's grenade and throwing it back at them before it exploded. When the war was over, my commanding officer gave me a sword engraved with the words _Awarded for Bravery and Valor; a True Hero; World War One_.' His grandson told him that the story couldn't be true. Why?"

"Okay, I give up," Al said immediately. "Wait, is it because the old man wasn't actually in the war? Like, he was too young to have been in it?"

"No," Artie said. "He was in the war. Just assume this takes place whenever a grandfather could have been in the First World War"

"Maybe . . . they didn't give out swords as awards?" Mei suggested.

Artie shrugged. "Well, I don't know if they actually did or not, but let's say they did. That's not the answer, at any rate."

"They didn't have grenades back then?" Francis asked.

"Pretty sure they did," Gil said. "I dunno."

"They didn't usually give out awards?" Toni suggested. "No, wait, they probably did . . . I dunno the answer."

"Um, wait," Lovi said. "You said that he got the sword after the war ended?"

"Yes."

"And . . ." Lovi frowned. "This was . . . _right _after the war?"

"Yes."

Lovi raised an eyebrow. "I got it. The sword wouldn't have had World War One on it, 'cause the second one hadn't happened yet."

. . .

"Oh . . ." Herc murmured. "That makes sense . . ."

"Yep, that's it," Artie said, looking pleased.

"Oh," I exclaimed. "I get it!"

"I've got one," Ludwig said. "A riddle, I mean. What walks on four legs in the morning, two legs—"

"A man," Artie said. Ludwig scowled.

"Okay, my turn," Gil said quickly. "What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?"

"A sponge?" Al asked.

Gil opened his mouth, then closed it. "Y'know, that wasn't what I was thinking, but I guess it works. I was thinking a towel."

"Sweet!" Al exclaimed.

"Oh, I've got one," Mei exclaimed. "The one who makes it does not use it, the one who buys it does not use it, and the one who uses it can neither see nor feel it. What is it?"

"Uh . . . I give up," Al said after a moment.

"It's . . . um . . ." Herc mumbled. "Hm . . . can't be a bed, right . . . ?"

"Nope," Mei said.

"Why wouldn't they see or feel it?" I wondered. "Are they asleep when they're using it? Then it'd be a pillow, right?"

"Well, you can buy your own pillow," Mei pointed out. "But you wouldn't buy this thing for yourself."

"Asleep . . . or dead, maybe," Gil said. "Oh, wait, is it a coffin!?"

"Yeah, that's it," Mei said, smiling.

"Jesus, that's morbid," Lovi muttered.

"Oh, that makes sense now," Ludwig murmured.

"My turn," Lovi said. "Brothers and sisters I have none, but this man's father is my father's son. Who is the man?"

"Um . . . you," Artie said.

Toni put an arm around Lovi. "You're _my_ man!"

"Get off me!"

* * *

><p><strong>Forgot to mention this before: There are a couple Easter Eggs in this story. I drop (fairly) subtle hints on occasion, so keep an eye out.<strong>

**1. The first Egg has to do with two characters who are not part of the twelve high-schoolers. They have both had speaking roles in the story at some point, however brief.**

**2. The second Egg is much trickier to find. It has to do with two of the group of the twelve high-schoolers and a certain connection they have. These characters are unaware of the connection and are not dating nor will ever date.**


	27. The Birthday, the Plans, and the Ghosts

"Get _off_ me!"

We all watched Lovi trying to get out of Toni's embrace.

"Can someone help?" Lovi muttered, still trying to get out.

"Nah, this is more fun, really," Gil said, watching them. "Toni, what's up?"

"It's my birthday, so I get to hug him as much as I want," Toni explained, nuzzling his head into Lovi's shoulder.

"Oh, nice," Al said. "You seventeen?"

"I'm eighteen!"

". . . I keep forgetting you're a year older than us," Francis remarked.

"Happy birthday!" I said.

"So what can you do now that you're eighteen?" Ludwig said thoughtfully. "You can vote—"

"If you're boring, sure," Gil said. "You can go to strip clubs, right?"

"Why do you know that?" Matt asked.

Gil winked.

"If they have a bar, you'd have to wait until you're 21," Artie said.

"Why do you know that?" Francis asked.

Artie shrugged. "It just makes sense."

"You can schedule your own doctor and dentist appointments," Ludwig said after a moment.

"You're literally the most boring person ever," Gil said.

Toni finally took his arms off of Lovi. Lovi dramatically gasped for air.

"Come to think of it, we haven't really been to the doctor's or dentist's," Toni said to Lovi. "At all. Since we've lived in the apartment."

"Yeah, but we're pretty healthy, so it's fine," Lovi said.

"Your teeth . . . look fine," Herc said softly, leaning over to look.

Lovi held out a hand. "See? We're good."

"You should still get a checkup, right?" I asked. "You never know . . ."

"Yeah," Toni said. "Lovi, I'm making appointments for us later."

Lovi frowned. "C'mon, Toni—"

"Nope."

"You're not getting another birthday hug," Lovi muttered.

Toni smiled. "We'll see about that."

"Speaking of hugs, V-Day's comin' up," Al said. He put his hands on Mei's shoulders, but she flinched and he quickly took them off, giving her a questioning look.

"Oh, yeah, it's this Thursday," Francis said.

Artie frowned. "Wait . . . Valentine's was on a Thursday _last_ year . . . and there weren't any leap years in between . . . hang on, that doesn't make any sense with the dates . . ."

"Ah, don't worry about it," Al said.

"No, seriously, that doesn't match up with the calen—"

"Mattie, let's have a V-Day date," Gil said. "Like, maybe this weekend, since it's a Thursday and all."

Matt nodded. "Sounds good."

"Hey, do you guys believe in ghosts?" Al asked. "Cause I'm pretty sure they're real and terrifying."

"Where the hell did you get—never mind," Francis muttered. "Honestly, at this point, I'm not sure what's real and what's not."

Gil snickered. "Geez, drama much? I dunno, I guess maybe they're real? Maybe they're not? All I know is they haven't ever bothered me so I don't care."

"Ghosts aren't real," Artie muttered. "Once you're dead, you're gone for good. Alfred, Matthew, we've been over this."

Matt held up his hands. "Don't drag me into this . . . ! I don't really believe in ghosts, even if horror movies and stuff are fun to watch."

"Ooh, that sounds good," Gil said. "Yeah, we'll watch a horror movie on our next date or something." He playfully tugged on Matt's hair curl.

Matt frowned. "_Pourquoi as-tu fait ça?_"

Gil grinned. "You gotta teach me French one of these days, 'cause I still have no idea what you're saying."

"He asked why you did that," Francis said.

"Oh. For fun."

Matt folded his arms. "_Vraiment, Gil?_"

"Okay, fine . . ." Gil tugged on the curl again.

Matt folded his arms and looked away, a little smile pulling on his mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**Pourquoi as-tu fait ca? = Why did you do that?**

**Vraiment, Gil? = Really, Gil?**


	28. The Library, the Books, and the Hesitant

"Lovi?"

Lovi looked up and saw me. "Feliciano? What're _you_ doing here?"

I smiled. "I'm looking for some books on painting and stuff! What're _you_ doing?"

He shuffled his feet. "Well—Toni's 18 now, and he got a library card, so I'm using it to check out some stuff."

"Oh, what kinda stuff?" I asked. He showed me the books in his arms.

"What's this one about?"

"A unicorn who goes on a journey to find her kind."

"This one?"

"A group of people go off to destroy an evil ring."

"This one?"

"This one's from _Harry Potter_—it's like, a book that was talked about in the series, and then they made it into an actual book. Isn't that neat?"

I looked up at him. He was grinning.

"Yeah, it's really cool," I agreed, looking at the covers. "Is Toni in here too?"

He shook his head. "Nah, I came by myself. Toni's back at the apartment."

"Oh, okay."

"So, did you, um . . ." he glanced around. "Did you need help finding the art books? I mean, this is the fantasy section."

"Yes, please," I said quietly.

He led me to the part with art stuff.

"Oh, here they are," I said. "Thanks!"

"Sure."

I started looking through the books. "Do you and Artie talk a lot? I mean, since you both like to read . . ."

"Well, sometimes," he mumbled. "I don't really like talking, but if he brings it up . . ."

"Does Toni like to read?"

He shrugged. "He'll read my stuff sometimes, but he doesn't really."

I spotted a picture of an elaborate heart in the book. "Um . . . are you and Toni doing anything for Valentine's?"

He shrugged again. "I guess we'll . . . just stay in the apartment. Usual stuff."

"Oh, okay."

"What about you and . . ." he made a face. "Ludwig?"

I looked away, smiling. "We're . . . not together yet . . . we're gonna start dating on the fifteenth!"

He stared at me. "That's awfully specific."

I smiled and shrugged. "Well, we promised each other last year, so . . ."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't even want to know."

"Okay."

. . .

"Is Eliza here?" he asked.

I glanced up. He was looking around for her.

"She's waiting in the car outside," I said. "I drove here for practice 'cause I don't have my license yet. I'm gonna try again soon!"

He stared at me. "How many times have you tried?"

"Two."

He rolled his eyes. "Good god, just give it up . . ."

I frowned. "No way! I'm gonna get it for sure next time!"

"Sure you are."

A little bit later I got my books and we went to the checkout together. He hesitated before we went out the doors.

"What's wrong?" I asked, looking back. "Don't you wanna see Eliza?"

He looked back. "I . . . I think I forgot to get a book back there. You go on ahead. Say hi to Eliza for me. See you tomorrow."

He turned and left.

"Bye," I said softly.


	29. The Revelation, the Hug, and the Kiss

**I am way too happy about this. Happy belated Valentine's Day, everyone!**

* * *

><p>Valentine's Day was finally here.<p>

I hadn't seen Ludwig yet, but I knew that talking with him was going to be a bit strange, only because today was a day for _love_ and we were gonna start dating _tomorrow_.

Oh, well.

"Feliciano?"

I looked over at Lovi. "Yeah?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

I shook my head. He shrugged and looked back to the front of the room.

* * *

><p>"Happy V-Day, losers," Gil said as Herc and Kiku finally came to the table. Ludwig and me were sitting next to each other.<p>

"A time to celebrate love, whether it be platonic, romantic, or anything in between," Francis said, throwing a glance at Artie, who didn't notice (I think).

Al tried to put an arm around Mei's shoulders, but she said, "No—please don't."

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

She winced. "Um, I—tripped the other day and banged my shoulders on the table."

"Oh, damn, I'm sorry," Al said quickly.

"No, it's fine," Mei said softly. She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Happy Valentine's, Al."

He grinned and kissed her back. "Same to you, beautiful."

"Oh . . . did we all bring . . . stuff?" Herc asked. He brought out a small bag and passed it around. "It's . . . the same thing . . . as last year. . . . Butter cookies."

"Hey, awesome," Al said. Matt brought out a bag and passed it around while Al said, "I kinda totally forgot about V-Day until like yesterday, so me and Mattie just went out and bought these cupcakes."

I tried mine. "It's good!"

"Me and Luddie made apple fritters," Gil said, quickly tossing one to each of us. Ludwig glanced at him and Gil said, "I mean—well, okay, Luddie did most of the work, but I made the glaze stuff."

"Lovi and I bought some cookies," Toni said, setting out the box in the middle of the table. "We were out of tomatoes this year."

Mei looked confused. "Tomatoes . . . ?" she murmured.

"Don't worry about it," Al said.

"Okay," she said. "Um . . . anyway, I made some orange tarts . . ." she brought them out in a little box. "I hope you guys like them?"

Gil tried his. "Damn, that's good."

"Thanks!"

"Oh, me and Eliza made _cannoli_," I said. I took the bag out of my backpack and passed around the individually-wrapped treats.

"Mm, it's sweet," Kiku said.

"I made some _macarons_," Francis said, passing around little sandwich cookie things. "It took me a few tries, but I think they turned out well."

"They did," Artie said, trying his. "It's really good."

"Do you have something?" Matt asked him.

Artie sighed. "No, sorry, it completely slipped my mind. I could make something for tomorrow."

"Nah, that's cool," Al said. "Wouldn't want any of your cooking anyway."

"I told you, I only set the kitchen on fire _once_!" Artie exclaimed.

"No one brought that up," Gil pointed out. Francis bit his lip and looked away.

"I made something this year," Kiku said. He brought out a bag and passed around some treats. "This is _mochi _ice cream. Its flavor is vanilla."

"_Mochi_?" Ludwig asked, trying some. "It's very thick—it's good, though."

"Thank you," Kiku said softly.

"Man, those were good treats," Al said. None of his sweets remained.

"Like I said, how on earth do you eat so quickly?" Francis demanded.

"Still dunno what you're on about," Al muttered.

Francis sighed. "Never mind!"

We all sat in silence for a few more minutes as we finished off the sweets and started on our normal food.

"So, uh," Al said abruptly. "Since today's V-Day and all—Feli, Ludwig, when're you guys gonna start dating?"

Ludwig and I glanced at each other and then looked at Al.

"What . . . are you talking about?" Ludwig asked after a moment.

"Are you fucking serious?" Gil exclaimed. "You literally told me like a year ago, but I would've figured it out even if you hadn't! Jesus, you guys are so obvious!"

"We are?" I asked.

"Well, yes."

"Yeah."

"Yup."

"Uh-huh."

"No shit."

Gil sighed. "Why are we all terrible at keeping secrets?"

Artie coughed; Francis and Mei looked uncomfortable.

"Because we're all incredibly nosy as well," Ludwig muttered. "Anyway . . . we're going to start dating tomorrow."

"Wow, that's awfully specific," Al commented.

"Yeah, we decided about a year ago!" I exclaimed.

"Back up, what?" Toni asked.

"You decided a year ago to date on February 15 of this year?" Matt asked, adjusting his glasses.

"Yeah, we did," I said.

Ludwig sighed and explained the situation to the group.

"That's kinda sweet," Mei said. "But didn't you guys think that . . . maybe one of us knows one of your childhood sweethearts?"

"I didn't remember anyone here going to the same elementary," I said.

"Same here," Ludwig said.

"Give it a shot," Al said. "Feli, what was he like?"

I looked up. "He had really nice and soft blond hair, and he had beautiful blue eyes, like ice, and I think his family was German, and he was really shy, and he scared me at first but then we got closer . . ." I smiled.

"O-kay," Lovi said. "You realize you literally just described Ludwig?"

I shrugged. "Well . . . Ludwig's a lot like him, but it can't be him, right?" I glanced at Ludwig. "You said your sweetheart was a girl, right?"

"Er—yes," Ludwig said.

"Yeah, it can't be him," I repeated sadly.

"Okay then . . ." Herc said. "Ludwig . . . what was . . . she like?"

Ludwig smiled. "She was a beautiful girl . . . I think her family was Italian . . . when I finally got up the nerve to approach her, it turned out we had the same feelings . . . her eyes were very light brown, almost amber . . . her hair was this beautiful copper color . . ." he frowned. "And . . . I just remembered, she had this strange curl on the . . . left side of her hair."

He glanced at me.

"Well, it can't be," he said quietly.

Francis was smirking. "What was her name?"

"I assume it was Felicia, or Felicity . . ." he murmured.

"You assume," Artie repeated flatly.

"She never told me her full name," he said thoughtfully. "She always told me to call her—" he glanced at me. "—Feli."

Everyone stared at me and Ludwig. I stared at Ludwig and he stared at me.

"So," Matt said softly. "Feli? This boy you loved . . . what was his name?"

I hesitated. "For some reason, he was . . ."

". . . Too shy to tell you his name," Ludwig completed.

I nodded.

"Well, that's that," Gil proclaimed. "You may kiss the bride."

A smile burst onto my face and I practically jumped onto Ludwig in a tight hug that I hoped would last forever. He hugged me back just as tightly.

"Why didn't you tell me your name?" I cried.

"I never liked my name as a kid!" he exclaimed.

"Why did you think I was a girl?"

"You wore dresses half the time! What was I supposed to think!?"

"I like wearing dresses!"

From somewhere else I heard Lovi groan, "Goddammit, Feliciano, I told you not to wear those . . ."

"Shush, Feli probably looks great in a dress," Toni said.

Ludwig and I finally pulled back. I leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips.

"_Ich liebe dich,_" I said happily.

"_T—Ti amo_," he said softly.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" we said together, smiling happily.


	30. The Stop, the Subplot, and the Secret

**Narrator: Matthew**

* * *

><p>"Al, I'm heading out," I called as I hopped on one foot, wrestling my shoes on. "Have fun with Mei!"<p>

"Yeah, you and Gil have fun," he called from the living room. I finally got my shoes on and headed out the door.

I met Gil at the bus stop. He grinned and waved.

"Hey, Mattie," he called. He was tossing some bread on the ground to feed the pigeons.

I smiled. "What happened to not liking birds?"

He shrugged. "Well, y'know."

I waited.

"How's the home life?" he asked, breaking up the last bits of bread and tossing them to the birds.

I shrugged. "Usual. Our parents are visiting some distant relatives for a couple days, so Al and I have the house to ourselves until tomorrow evening."

"Oh, nice. Is he having Mei over?"

"Yeah, I think so," I said. "Why?"

He shrugged again. "I think he said something once about her dad not wanting them to date, so . . ."

"Oh, yeah," I said, sitting down with him. "He mentioned that before. I guess they'll just have to be careful."

He grinned. "Dunno how they'll manage that! Alfie tends to draw attention, doesn't he?"

I nodded. "Definitely. He takes up most of the conversation at dinner . . ." I sighed. "How're things at home for you?"

"Not bad, not bad," he said. "_Vati_'s the same as ever—Luddie is way more happy nowadays. He said that Feli said that Eliza said that he needs to come over for dinner, but apparently the whole family's gotta be there, so Feli said that Eliza said that Feli's stepdad's gotta be there. I guess he's on a trip or something."

"Feli's mentioned him before," I remembered, swinging my feet. "He seems to go on trips a lot."

"Yeah, I met him once, he's kind of a prick," Gil said. "He acted all stuck-up and he wore, like, this _ancient_ suit . . . it looked okay and all, but seriously, who wears a suit around the house? Not to mention one from—fucking Victorian Era."

I had nothing to say to this, so I simply shrugged.

"Yeah, exactly," he said as if I had said something of substance. "Hey, kinda off-topic, but what do you think Artie and Francis are hiding? Maybe they're secretly dating?"

"Are they hiding something?" I asked in surprise. "You mean, together? I kind of figured Francis had some kind of secret, but . . . hang on, why would they keep dating a secret? None of us would care."

"Yeah, but the thing is, I'd totally make fun of them," Gil explained. "And _yeah_, they're hiding something. Does no one pay attention to subplots anymore?"

"Sub—?"

"The clues are there if you look for them," he continued. "Geez, I thought _Alfie_ was bad at lying, look at those two . . ."

"I—I don't know what they're hiding," I said. "I mean—it's none of our business, right?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I _guess_, but come on, I gotta have something to do in my spare time . . ."

"So you eavesdrop and pry?"

"Yeah. It's as good a hobby as any."

I smiled. "You could take up bird-watching."

"Hey, there's an idea—" he glanced at me with narrowed eyes. "Mattie . . ."

"What?"

"Don't play innocent, I _see_ you smirking."

"Well, y'know."

He waited.

"Hey, the bus is here," I said, standing. "Come on!"

* * *

><p>A few hours later I kissed Gil goodbye and headed home. Walking around downtown was pretty fun, even if we hadn't had any real plan in mind.<p>

I came in and called, "I'm home!" as I kicked off my shoes. I went upstairs and around the corner to see Al sitting on the couch, staring off into space.

"Al?"

He glanced over. "Hey, Mattie."

"Did Mei come over?" I asked.

He hesitated. "Yeah . . . but it didn't go well . . ."

"What happened?"

He sighed. "I'll tell you later. It was just really shitty."


	31. The Nose, the Cards, and the Intruder

**Narrator: Alfred**

* * *

><p>"Have fun with Mei!" Mattie called from the front door. I heard him hopping on one foot as he got his shoes on.<p>

"Yeah, you and Gil have fun," I called. A moment later he left. I shifted in my spot and glanced at the time. Geez, it was already a minute to what Mei and I agreed on! I got up and started pacing around the coffee table.

It was a whole _two minutes_ later when I heard a knock on the front door. YES SHE WAS HERE! I jumped over the banister to get there faster but I tripped and fell down the stairs and sort of hit my face.

"Ow," I said, getting back up and rubbing my nose. I went over to the door and opened it and Mei was waiting outside. She's so cute!

"Hey!" I said, grinning.

She stared at me. "Al? Your nose is, um . . ." she pointed. I felt my nose and checked my fingers and they were all red.

"Oh, I tripped just now," I said. "No big deal! C'mon in!"

She came in and took off her shoes. "You should go take care of that . . ."

"I guess," I said. I went upstairs and went to the kitchen and got some tissues. When I came back Mei was halfway up the stairs.

She stared at me—ha-ha, "staired," since she was on the stairs, get it?—and said, "How did you get back so quickly?"

"What?" I asked. I never really understood why everyone said things like that.

"Never mind," she said, coming up. "So what're we gonna do?"

I froze just as I was cleaning up my nosebleed. Shit, I hadn't thought of anything!

"Um—what do _you_ want to do?" I asked quickly. Nice save! Yes!

She smiled _goddammit her smile is adorable_ and said, "Anything's fine as long as it's with you."

Why did she have to be so cute?! "Uh—uh—" I said. "In that case—um—"

She smiled again. "How about . . . we'll play Go Fish . . . and whenever one of us gets a pair, the other one has to kiss them."

I grinned. "That sounds great! Let's do it!"

I ran down the hall and grabbed a deck of cards and ran back. Mei glanced at me, blinked, opened her mouth, and then shook her head.

"Let's go!" I said.

We set up the cards and started playing. Mei got the first pair, so I leaned over and pecked her on the lips. She smiled again—so cute!

Before we started playing again, her phone buzzed and she took it out and looked at it. She frowned. "Just a sec."

She typed something and put away the phone again.

"Who was it?" I asked, tapping the sides of my feet on the floor.

"My dad," she said, looking down. "He asked where I was. I told him I was still on a walk . . ."

"Oh, okay," I said, looking back at my cards. "Do you have a—"

There was a knock at the door. I set down my cards and got up. "Just a sec, it's probably a package for mom or dad . . ."

I went down to the front door and pulled it open. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Mr. Wang standing there. I always thought that was a funny phrase, y'know? "Jumped out of your skin," like, what, your skin tears open or something? Kinda terrifying when you think about—

"Alfred," Mr. Wang said coldly.

I blinked. "Uh, hi sir," I said quickly. "Can I help you?"

"Where is my daughter?"

"Uh—I dunno, haven't seen her around, except at school," I lied quickly. "Why?"

"Because I saw her entering your house not long ago."

I froze. "Uh—really?! Wow, that's really weird! Maybe she broke in somehow? I usually leave the front door unlocked, but I dunno why she'd come here! Hey, maybe she's still in here? Maybe in the basement somewhere? I can help you look!" (Yes, brilliant save! Just lead him downstairs and—)

Mr. Wang pushed past me and marched up the stairs.

"Hey!" That wasn't part of my plan—oh shit, Mei!

"Mei!" he yelled. He went around to where Mei was and grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the stairs.

"We are going _home_, young lady!" he yelled. Mei was crying—she was crying!—as she was forced down the stairs.

"Mr. Wang, come on!" I yelled. "Mei didn't do anything wrong! It was my fault! I—"

He turned and glared at me. I jumped. Damn, that was scary.

"Stay _away_ from my daughter!" he yelled. He dragged Mei out the door and it slammed behind him. I looked out the window, but they were already at the street.

"Shit," I muttered. Poor Mei. I hoped her dad wouldn't yell too much.

I sighed and went to clean up the stuff. Eventually I started lounging on the couch and fell asleep.

I woke up a while later when I heard the front door open. From down the stairs, Mattie called, "I'm home!"

He came up a moment later. "Al?"

I glanced over. "Hey, Mattie."

"Did Mei come over?" he asked.

I hesitated. "Yeah . . . but it didn't go so well . . ."

"What happened?"

I sighed. "I'll tell you later. It was just really shitty."

* * *

><p><strong>Ah, Alfie, how I've missed writing for you.<strong>


	32. The Dragging, the Beating, and the Text

**Oh god I'm so sorry for this chapter I'm so sorry**

**Narrator: Mei**

* * *

><p>"Stay <em>away<em> from my daughter!"

Dad dragged me out the door and slammed it behind him. Upset tears poured down my face as he forced me down the street, away from Al's house. It felt like my wrist could break any second.

"We are going to have a _long_ talk about this," he hissed threateningly. I remembered his other "talks," so naturally I was scared.

"I—I didn't—do anything wrong," I whispered.

He whipped around and glared daggers. "Do _not_ talk back."

The rest of the way home was silent. We got inside. Dad dragged me to the living room and threw down my wrist.

"What were you _thinking_?" he yelled. "I told you to stop seeing that boy!"

"I—I—we were just—we were just p-playing cards," I stuttered, crying nervously.

He slapped me hard across the face. "Don't you lie to me! I'll bet it was some filthy gambling game!"

"N-No! It was j-just—" I gulped.

He slapped the other side of my face. I winced. "I didn't raise a liar, young lady! What am I supposed to do with you?! You can't keep your hands off some boy, you _whore_—!"

He shoved me roughly into the coffee table. I stumbled and cried out as the corner struck my side.

He loomed over me like a beast. "I give you food, I give you shelter, I give you clothes, so you will do as I say!"

I instinctively covered my head as he picked up the mug on the table and chucked it. It hit my chest.

"You've been seeing him at school, haven't you?" he demanded, stomping his foot into my shin. I cried out. "_Haven't you_?"

"N—No—"

"You _liar_!" He stomped again. "Your mother would be _ashamed_, Mei!"

But soon he stepped away.

"Delete him from your cell phone," he said coldly. "I want it done by dinnertime, and I expect to see it in my hand then."

He walked away. I heard him going down the hall and shutting the door to his room.

It took me a minute to get up. I knew I was a mess. Tears staining my face, my blouse messed up, bruises forming . . .

I limped slowly down the hall to my room and quietly shut the door. I checked myself in the mirror—yep, a mess—that was definitely a bruise forming there—and lied on my bed. My eyes felt too dry to cry anymore.

My phone buzzed and I automatically took it out and glanced at it.

It was a text from Al.

_Everything okay?_

I took a deep breath, then another one.

I texted back.

_yes_


	33. The B-Day, the Uniforms, and the Set-Up

I walked into math and immediately got jumped on.

"Hey!"

"Sup, Feli!" Al exclaimed. He didn't let go. "Happy b-day!"

"Thanks!" I said. "Are you gonna let g—"

"Sssh," he whispered. "Just let it happen."

He didn't let go for about a minute. During that time, Francis walked in. He glanced at me and Al, opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and sat down.

Finally Al let go. "Birthday hug complete," he declared, grinning.

I smiled. "Thanks?"

"Oh, right, happy birthday," Francis said from his desk as he took out his papers.

"Thanks!"

"It's really weird that the school uniform doesn't include green," Al commented, looking me up and down. "You'd think they would've planned ahead for St. Patty's Day, right?"

"That _is_ weird," I exclaimed. "If I ever run a school, I'm gonna make sure that if there are uniforms, they have green in them!"

Me and Al high-fived.

"How was your weekend?" I asked.

He shrugged, frowning. "Not great. I was on a date with Mei but then her dad _broke down my front door_ and literally dragged her away. She said she's okay, but she didn't text me back all weekend . . ."

"Her dad _broke _your front door?" Francis asked flatly.

Al shrugged again. "I—okay, he didn't break it down, but he just fucking shoved _right_ past me, _without_ my permission, into _my_ house—"

"But he didn't actually break the door."

"No, Francis, he didn't break the door."

"Okay."

Al stuck out his tongue at Francis and turned to me. "How was your weekend?"

"It was okay," I said. "I didn't do a lot. Stepfather got back from his music thing."

"Oh, cool," he said.

"My weekend was fine, if anyone was wondering," Francis said from his desk.

"We weren't, but whatever," Al said. "Hey, Francis, are you gay?"

Francis looked up. "What?"

"Are. You. Homo. Sexual."

"Why?"

"Well—" Alfred looked up in thought and nodded to himself. "You and Artie are the only ones of us who are currently not involved in any romantic entanglement . . ."

I thought I saw Francis's cheeks go pink when Al said Artie's name, but it might've been my imagination.

"And . . . ?" Francis muttered, looking down.

"Well, we know that Artie's completely hopeless," Al continued, "so I was thinking, if me and Gil and maybe Toni wanna set you up with someone, we gotta know your orientation, otherwise if we get it wrong it's gonna be super-awkward."

He said all this very fast.

Francis stared at him. "You're planning ahead . . . for something you _might_ want to surprise me with . . . which you just told me about," he said.

"Yeah."

Francis sighed. "I'm pan."

"Okay, cool. So anyone'll do."

"It doesn't work like—"

"You prefer big ones or small ones?"

"Big or small—?" Francis frowned. "Jesus, Alfred, it doesn't matter! Don't try to set me up with someone!"

"Big ones it is!"

Francis groaned. "Can we all just stay out of each other's love lives?"

"No."


	34. The Search, the Doubts, and the Nudity

". . . Anyway, I'm not allowed to do that anymore," Gil was saying as I sat at the table. "Sup, Feli! Hey, you and Lovi, happy birthday!"

"Thanks!"

"Thanks," Lovi said.

Herc and Kiku joined us a minute later.

Ludwig kissed me. "Sorry," he murmured. "I couldn't think of anything to get you."

I smiled. "That's okay! I don't really want anything!"

"Get a room," Artie muttered. Francis smirked and glanced at Artie.

Al kept looking around. "Has anyone seen Mei? I haven't seen her all day."

No one said anything.

"I'm gonna go look for her," Al said abruptly. He stood up and was gone before I knew it.

Gil looked at Matt. "Seriously, you _live _with him, you gotta have _some_ idea of how he does it!"

Matt shrugged helplessly. "I know as much as you do . . . and so does he, apparently."

"Is it hot in here, or is it just me?" Francis asked, pushing away a lock of hair from his eyes.

Artie glanced at him and I thought I saw his cheeks turn pink. "I swear to god, if you're trying to flirt with m—someone—"

"No—" Francis looked away. "No, c'mon, I didn't mean it like that."

"It actually is . . . pretty warm . . ." Herc said sleepily, yawning.

"The AC's probably broken," Al said, sitting back down.

"Don't ask, don't ask, don't ask," Francis muttered to himself.

"Did you find her?" Matt asked.

Al sighed. "No. I looked _everywhere_!"

"Did you try the library?" Artie asked.

Al's eyes widened. "I'll be right back!" He ran off.

"Oh, Ludwig, do you wanna come over for dinner on Friday?" I asked my boyfriend. "Eliza and stepfather wanna meet you!"

"Yes—yes, that sounds good," Ludwig said, smiling.

Lovi rolled his eyes. "You really think that prick's gonna take it well?"

"What d'you mean?" I asked. "Oh, stepfather . . ."

"You haven't told him you're gay for Ludwig, right?" Lovi continued. "He isn't exactly forward-thinking."

"Right, Eliza mentioned that he's against homosexuality," I remembered. "Well—it'll go fine!"

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because we're in love!"

Gil burst out laughing. "Yeah, good luck with that!"

"Good luck with what?" Al asked.

Gil jumped. "Oh, we're talking about how Feli's gonna break the news to his prick stepdad that he's gay for Ludwig."

"You're a good artist, right?" Al asked.

"Yeah, I think so," I admitted.

"You're _amazing_," Ludwig said fiercely. I smiled.

"Okay, I have an idea," Al said, leaning forward. "Paint yourself and Ludwig naked together and holding hands, and show it to him."

Ludwig promptly covered his mouth to avoid spitting out his food. My jaw hit the table as Gil and Francis fell over laughing. Artie stared at Al in disbelief. Kiku's face turned red and for some reason Herc went limp and fell onto the table. Lovi covered his face while Toni laughed behind his hand.

"How do you say these things with a straight face?" Artie demanded as Kiku checked on Herc.

Al looked at him. "What? I'm serious. It makes the meaning pretty clear, right?"

"What kind of person tells other people to _paint themselves and someone else naked_?" Ludwig yelled.

"Me," Al said. "But I was talking about, like, _Bible_ naked, y'know, fig leaves covering the crotch."

Gil's face was turning red. I think he was having trouble breathing. Francis looked up, gasping for air.

"Feli, please don't actually paint that," Ludwig said, turning to me.

I shrugged. "Well, I can't. I don't have any practice painting nude people."

He stared at me. "_Any_way, we'll figure something out. Alfred, did you have any luck finding Mei?"

Al frowned. "No, not at all. It's weird, you'd think she'd have texted me or something." He brightened. "Hey, her dad doesn't like me and her together, but maybe if I paint _us_ like that and show it to him—"

"You draw stick figures," Artie reminded him.

Al glared at him. "Like you're one to talk! You draw like an eight-year-old!"

Artie scowled. "I haven't _shown_ you any of my drawings since I was eight!"

"So?!"

"So maybe I'm a decent artist!"

"Not with an eight-year-old's talent!"

Herc slowly sat up, rubbing his temple. "Al . . . please don't say . . . things like that with . . . no warning."

"Sure," Al said distractedly. "Artie, my stick figures are better than yours!"

"_You're_ the one who draws like he's seven!"

"I'm a child at heart!"

"That explains a lot!"

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

The bell rang and we all hurried off, leaving Artie and Al to their bickering.


	35. The Running, the Hug, and the Questions

Gym class was hard that afternoon. The teacher made us run laps outside, even though it was freezing cold. By the time we were sent inside to change, we were all shivering and covered in goose bumps.

Ludwig and I went to our lockers and pulled off our shirts.

He rubbed his arms together. "Doesn't running outside in _that_ weather violate the eighth amendment?"

"What?" I asked. "What does that have to do with bail money?"

He stared at me. ". . . Never mind."

"Oh, I had art last period," I said. "We worked on our impression paintings."

"So you didn't—?" he asked, looking at me suspiciously.

"Didn't what?" I asked. "Oh, didn't paint us naked? No, there wasn't time."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't like that implication of 'I would have done it if I had more time.'"

I smiled. "Well . . . I _might_ have . . . but I don't have any practice anyway."

He turned away, smiling. "When did you get a dirty mind? Have you been hanging around Francis and my _brüder_?"

"I have math with Francis, and next period with Gil and Al," I said. "So . . . kinda?"

He sighed. "You're too innocent to be corrupted by them!"

I looked his torso up and down.

"W-What?"

"Ludwig, have I ever told you that I really like your muscles?"

"Do—Do you?" he asked, his face turning pink. "I only work out a little outside of gym, so—"

I jumped on him in a tight hug.

"You're warm now," I declared. I felt his body grow warmer as I hugged him, bare chest to bare chest.

"Feli—!" he exclaimed. "You're lucky we're the only ones in this row—! What if there were others—?"

"We can hear every word you're saying, idiots," one of our classmates called from the other side of the row.

"You guys are _so_ gay for each other," another person said. This was followed by laughter.

"We're _dating_!" Ludwig exclaimed.

There was a moment of silence in the room.

"Oh, so you really are gay for each other! Called it!"

"Literally everyone knew but you, bro."

They went back to their own conversation. I got off of Ludwig.

"Warn me next time," he muttered.

"Okay!"

We finished changing and waited for the bell to ring.

"Hey, so, you wanna come over on Friday?" I asked. "So Eliza and stepfather can meet you!"

"Sure—" Ludwig looked at me. "We already had this conversation."

"Oh, yeah."

He smiled. "Yes, Friday sounds good."

I smiled. "Okay!"

"Should I . . . bring anything?" he asked.

"Um . . . I think . . . hm . . ." I looked up. "I dunno . . . no, you don't have to."

"Your stepfather's really old-fashioned, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Should I dress up?"

I shrugged. "Probably. Maybe a suit and tie? I can ask Eliza, but you don't have to be super-fancy."

"Thank goodness," he said. "I don't _have_ anything fancy."

The bell rang and we parted ways.


	36. The Chatspeak, the Undo, and the Concern

Al and Gil were already in class when I went into Computer Graphics.

"What're we doing today?" I asked as I sat down.

Gil sighed dramatically. "Same shit we were doing yesterday."

"if u dont like the class y ru here?" Al asked.

Gil and I stared at him.

"wat"

"How the fuck are you doing that?" Gil asked incredulously.

"doin wat?"

"How are you talking like you're texting?" I asked.

Al shrugged. "idk feli"

Gil winced. "_Gott_, that burns my ears! Cut it out!"

"dont u tell me what to do!" Al exclaimed.

"Oh _mein Gott_ make it stop!"

"Al, can you stop?" I asked quietly.

He grinned. "Okay, fine."

Gil uncovered his ears. "You're inhumanly fast, you can talk in chatspeak, I don't even want to know _what_ kinds of other weird shit you can do."

"Fast?"

"Ugh." Gil turned to his computer and opened up his project.

"This is for the birds," Al complained as he got to work. I quickly opened up my project too.

Gil whipped around and stared at Al. "Did Mattie tell you?!"

"Tell me what?"

"Uh—nothing—thought you were talking about something else," Gil said quickly.

"Uh, okay, whatever." Al glanced at my project. "Feli, how are you so good at this?"

I shrugged. "Um . . . instinct?"

"You're cheating," Gil decided. "Tell me your secrets."

"Secrets? I don't have any! I just do what feels right!"

"Do what feels right . . ." Gil muttered. "Got it."

He opened up a tool, clicked on his image, and somehow smeared all the colors.

"Maybe you should do what feels _wrong_," Al suggested.

"Alright," Gil agreed. He clicked with the same tool and the colors became a jumbled mess.

Al made a face. "It looks like clown vomit."

Gil undid his mistakes and sighed. "Back to the drawing board."

"I have a drawing board," I said, "but I left it in art class . . ."

"I didn't mean a _literal_—never mind."

* * *

><p>When I got home, I went upstairs and found Eliza reading a book on her bed. She looked up and smiled. "Hey, Feli," she said, putting down the book. "How was school?"<p>

I shrugged. "Pretty good. Can Ludwig come over for dinner on Friday?"

She looked startled. "Ludwig? Your boyfriend?"

"Yeah." I jumped up and sat on the bed next to her.

She sighed. "I'd love to have him over and meet him, but I don't know about your stepfather . . ."

The familiar sound of the piano floated through the door as she said this.

"Maybe—maybe he'll be okay with this," I said hopefully. "I mean—I'm his stepson, so—he might—?"

Eliza looked at me sadly.

"Maybe," she said softly. "Ludwig's nice, isn't he?"

I nodded. "Yeah! He's smart, and he's really handsome, and strong, and he's really polite and nice, and he's looking forward to dinner—oh! And I gotta go over to his house for dinner soon, too, 'cause I gotta meet his dad!"

Eliza smiled. "That's no problem. We can just tell your stepfather you're going over to a friend's house for dinner . . ."

"But . . . I can't say _boy_friend's house?"

She sighed through her nose. "We'll see."

* * *

><p><strong>The Good, the Bad, and the Italian series: breaking the fourth wall since chapter 26<strong>

**Speaking of which, for some reason, this thing won't let Al say that first thing with "y r u" separated, so I had to put "r" and "u" together. Otherwise it makes it say "if u dont like the clas here?"**

**Translation:**

**Mein Gott = My God**


	37. The Arrival, the Meal, and the Eavesdrop

"I still don't understand why we need a proper affair like this to meet Feliciano's friend," stepfather said, straightening his ascot. "Feliciano, don't you have many other friends? What makes this one special?"

Eliza and me glanced at each other. She was wearing a nice dress and I was wearing a sports jacket and slacks that I saved for nice restaurants and stuff.

"Well—" Eliza started hesitantly, but she was interrupted by knocking from the front door.

"He's here!" I exclaimed happily. I hurried to the door and flung it open to see Ludwig. He was dressed in an outfit a lot like mine, except mine was dark blue and his was dark green.

"Hi," I said, moving aside to let him in. As he took off his shoes and placed them on the shoe rack, I continued, "I'm glad you made it!"

He smiled. "So am I. I wouldn't want to miss meeting your family."

I grinned and led him to the dining area. Eliza was setting out bowls of beef soup around the table as stepfather sat down. I was about to sit down, but then I quickly got up and pulled out Ludwig's chair for him. He smiled and nodded in thanks and sat down. Eliza and I sat down.

"Thank you for dinner," I said to Eliza like I always did.

"Thank you, Mrs. Edelstein," Ludwig said politely.

Eliza smiled and looked like she was about to say something, but then she glanced at stepfather and apparently decided not to say anything.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," stepfather said. He started on his meal and we all dug in as well.

"So, Ludwig," stepfather said. "It's nice to meet you."

Ludwig quickly swallowed his soup and nodded. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Edelstein."

Stepfather seemed impressed by his manners. "Feliciano," he said, turning to me, "is there any particular reason why you wanted all of us to dine with him?"

My eyes flicked to Eliza, who was looking nervous. Ludwig glanced at me and furrowed his brow slightly—he didn't know that I hadn't told stepfather yet.

"I . . ."

Surely he would accept it? I was his stepson!

I took a deep breath.

"He's my boyfriend."

For a minute there was dead silence. Stepfather's expression was complete shock at first. But soon, it turned to thoughtfulness, and then apparent understanding.

"I see," he said, smiling slightly. "I'm not sure that quite explains it, but if you two are that close . . ."

I smiled brightly. Eliza seemed torn between confusion and relief.

"Well then," stepfather said, returning to his meal. "Ludwig, do you have any hobbies? What do you do for work?"

"I don't have many hobbies," Ludwig admitted. "I enjoy baking—"

"He's really good at it," I said, smiling. Ludwig glanced over and smiled.

"Feliciano," stepfather snapped. "Manners. Don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"It's fine," Ludwig said quickly. "I enjoy baking. As for work, I have a part-time job on the weekends at IKEA doing manual labor."

Stepfather nodded. "That sounds like a tough job." He glanced at me with a frown. "Feliciano, you should take after his example."

"Roderich," Eliza hissed.

"I can try to find a job this summer," I said, shrinking under his stare.

"You're—you're an amazing painter," Ludwig said. "I bet anything people would be willing to buy your artwork."

I perked up. "You think so?"

Stepfather raised an eyebrow. "Painting isn't work," he said dismissively.

"With all due respect, Mr. Edelstein," Ludwig said, "I took painting last year with Feli, and it was my hardest class. In any case, I believe that anything you do regularly and get paid for can be considered a job."

"If you say so," stepfather sniffed.

Eliza smiled sympathetically at Ludwig and me and raised an eyebrow at stepfather when he wasn't looking. Ludwig smiled nervously and I nodded.

The rest of the evening passed without much more conversation.

* * *

><p>Ludwig's time to leave came all too quickly.<p>

"I should be going," he said, standing. "Mr. and Mrs. Edelstein, thank you for having me here, and thank you for the lovely meal."

"It was so nice to meet you," Eliza said, taking both his hands briefly and smiling.

Stepfather shook hands with him. "It was nice to meet you, Ludwig."

"It was very nice to meet you two," Ludwig said formally. "I hope I'll see you again."

"I'll see you out," I said, jumping to my feet. I walked with him to the front door, waited 'til he got his shoes on, then walked with him to his car.

"That went well," he said.

"I'm so glad stepfather's okay with us dating!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah," he said, smiling. "With what you told me about him, I didn't think he would take it that well."

I grinned. "Well, we don't have to hide it! So that's good!"

He nodded. "Feli, thanks for having me over."

We hugged and kissed. After that he got in his car and drove away. I watched him go before heading back inside.

As I went back to the kitchen to help Eliza with the dishes, I heard stepfather say, "Ludwig is a very nice young man, isn't he?"

I hesitated, then stopped just before the corner and quietly listened in.

"He is," Eliza said warmly. "I'm so glad you took that well, Roderich."

"Took what well?"

"You know—" she hesitated. "That they're . . . boyfriends."

"Oh! Well, yes, I was surprised—but it was only a matter of time. After all, you ladies use that kind of thing with yourselves all the time, don't you?"

". . . What?"

"You say things like, 'I'm going out with my girlfriends,' or 'My girlfriends and I are going out Saturday—' Things like that. I suppose it shouldn't be too surprising that young men have started using 'boyfriend' in the same way."

Silence.

"Yes," Eliza said at last. "Yes, it's not too surprising."

"But I'm not sure Ludwig is a good influence on Feliciano," stepfather continued.

"Roderich, you said Feliciano should take his example—"

"Oh, yes," stepfather said, interrupting her. "Yes, in _that_ way, certainly. Ludwig is a hardworking young man, and if Feliciano doesn't become a musician—now _there's_ art which requires work!—I would love for him to take after Ludwig in responsibility. However . . ."

I could hear the frown in his voice.

"I don't like the way Ludwig looked at my stepson," he said. "Like a—_homosexual_."

He said it as if it was a swear word.

"I don't want Feliciano to be influenced like that," he continued. "He should be a nice, upstanding young man. Ludwig seems nice enough, but the way he looked at Feliciano . . . it rang of a bad upbringing."

Silence.

"Don't you agree?"

". . . Of course," Eliza said softly. "I can tell Feliciano about it later."

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

I stared up at the ceiling.


	38. The Hands, the Birds, and the Sprain

**This chapter and the next two take place around late March/early April. Also, I'm probably going to do some major timeskips like the last story - you'll be warned about it in the AN, of course.**

**Narrator: Hercules**

* * *

><p>". . . that's why . . . I woke up . . . covered in cats," I finished, taking a bite of my cake. "My mother . . . was <em>not<em> happy."

Kiku smiled. "I would love to wake up with cats sleeping on top of me."

He and I were on a date in the café. We'd ordered sweets and drinks—I had a latté and Kiku had an Arnold Palmer.

He took a sip of his drink and shuddered slightly. "I think there's too much sugar in this."

I shrugged. "Those kinds of drinks . . . are always . . . really sweet."

He frowned slightly. "I think I'm going to bring my own tea from now on."

"Mm."

Our dates were often quiet like this—not that either of us minded.

". . . We haven't . . . ever held hands," I realized.

"What?" Kiku asked, looking up from his drink. He was stirring it vigorously. Maybe he thought he could separate the sugar and the liquid.

"We've gone on dates . . ." I explained. "But . . . we've never held hands."

I placed my hand palm-up on the table. He rested his hand on mine and we squeezed.

"Your hands are so warm," he said in surprise, smiling slightly.

I frowned. "Your hands . . . are cold."

He shrugged. "It's okay. They're always like that."

"It's not . . . to me."

I brought up my other hand and gestured for him to do the same. I sandwiched his hands between mine and held them tightly, moving my hands to warm his up.

"Does it feel . . . good?" I asked, looking up at him.

He nodded. His face was a bit pink.

* * *

><p>It didn't take us too much longer to finish up. We headed out and down the street, intending to take a walk around town before looping back to our homes.<p>

As we passed by an alley, Kiku suddenly stopped. I walked backward and glanced down the alley.

Gil and Matthew were standing a little ways away from us. Gil had three birds perched upon him: two crows on each of his arms and a raven on his head.

The raven cawed loudly. Gil was scowling and Matthew was smiling and saying something.

"Hey," I said softly. They turned and saw us. Matthew raised his eyebrows and Gil's eyes widened.

"What're you guys . . . up to?" I asked, coming into the alley with Kiku to stand next to them.

"Hey, Herc, Kiku," Matthew greeted. "Well, we were on a date, and then Gil wanted to take a shortcut through the alley, and . . ." he gestured to the miniature flock.

Gil glared at Kiku. "Wipe that smirk off your face."

I glanced at Kiku. He was grinning and I could see his eyes shining.

"Gilbert-_kun_, are you a bird whisperer?" he said.

Gil rolled his eyes. "God no. Is that even a thing? No, these jerks just like me."

"This happens . . . often?" I asked.

"There were more when we took a walk in the forest," Matthew said quietly. He glanced up at Gil's head. "I didn't even know we had ravens around here."

"And I didn't know we had red-tailed hawks until one landed on my head." Gil said. Despite his complaining, he made no move to get the birds off.

"Don't tell anyone," he said abruptly, his face pink. "It's embarrassing. God knows Alfie and Francis would have a field day."

"Okay," Kiku agreed. "But may I take a photo?"

Gil rolled his eyes. "Not you, too . . . fine, just don't show anyone."

Kiku snapped a picture.

"I won't tell . . ." I said. "But . . . I'm the same way . . . with cats."

As I spoke, an alley cat approached and rubbed its head against my leg.

"Really?" Gil said in surprise.

"I love cats," I said softly, stroking its head. It purred.

"Well, good for you, because I don't like birds," Gil muttered. "Mattie, let's get going, we're gonna be late."

"Yeah," Matthew said. Gil shook his arms and head while Matthew waved, and the birds cleared out.

We went our separate ways with farewells.

* * *

><p>Eventually Kiku and I made a beeline for the way home.<p>

I yawned. "I'm probably . . . gonna sleep soon . . . let's hurry."

"Soon?" Kiku asked.

"Maybe . . . half an hour . . . ?"

"Oh," Kiku said. "Then it's good that we're close to hooo_ooooooo_—"

The last word turned into a yell as he tripped over a crack and fell hard.

"You okay?" I asked, kneeling next to him.

He winced. "Yes, I'm okay." He tried to stand, but cried out when he tried to put weight on his left ankle.

"It hurts," he said, "but I can walk."

I looked at his ankle. It didn't look good.

"It might . . . be sprained," I said. "You can't walk . . . like this."

He stubbornly tried to stand again, only to fall.

"You can leave me," he said quickly. "I'll get home somehow."

I stared at him. "Don't . . . be stupid. I'll . . . get you . . . home."

"How—?"

I reached under him and scooped him up bridal-style. He squeaked in protest.

"Your home's . . . not far," I said. "I'm strong. I . . . can carry you."

He looked like he wanted to protest, but I certainly wasn't going to let him go anytime soon, and he quickly gave up and clasped his arms around my neck like a baby monkey.

I started walking as fast as possible. I noticed that Kiku's hands were still a bit cold around my neck, but his body in my arms was warm.

"Is this . . . uncomfortable . . . ?" I asked after a minute.

He shook his head. "It's fine."

I kept going.

Finally we reached his home. I went up to the front door and Kiku reached out and knocked.

His mother answered. She was initially very surprised, but we explained the situation. She thanked me, I said bye to Kiku, and was on my way.

I was just approaching my front steps when I staggered, feeling that heavy blanket of sleepiness being pulled over me. I managed to stumble to the porch swing and collapse upon it just in time for the uncontrollable wave of deep sleep to hit me.


	39. The Tie, the Flowers, and the Connection

**Narrator: Ludwig**

* * *

><p>I checked my tie in the mirror, frowned, and untied it again. Why did it always have to be crooked the first few times?<p>

I heard a knock on the door and tried to move faster, but I heard it open. A moment later, _Bruder_ yelled, "Hey, Luddie! Your boyfriend's here!"

"I'll be down in a second!" I yelled back. I redid my tie, checked it, undid it, redid it, checked it again, straightened it, and went downstairs.

Gilbert was leading Feli to the living room. My _Bruder_ was sloppily wearing a T-shirt with a necktie jokingly knotted around his throat. His sweatpants had faint stains on them and he was wearing _those_ socks with the holes in the bottom. Feli, on the other hand, looked as handsome as always. He held something behind his back. He had worn his suit, as I'd requested of him. His tie could do with some fixing, and one part of his shirt was a bit loose, but other than that he radiated perfection.

"Hi," Feli exclaimed when he saw me. He smiled, and as always, it lit up the room and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, Luddie, your tie's crooked," Gilbert said.

"What—? _Verdammt_," I muttered, hurrying to the mirror to check it. I undid it, redid it, undid it, and redid it before I was satisfied.

"Thank you," I said as I returned, my face pink.

"It wasn't actually crooked, so don't bother thanking me," Gilbert said, smirking.

"I keep telling you to stop doing that," I snapped. Turning to Feli, I said, "Sorry. Let's go to the dining room."

"Okay," he said, bouncing on his feet. I led him and Gilbert to the dining room, where _Vater_ was setting up the table.

"Oh, I brought flowers," Feli said suddenly. He brought out a bouquet of yellow flowers from behind his back and presented them to me.

"Feli, thank you," I said. They were really very beautiful li—

"Lilies?" Gilbert said, snickering. "Feli, you get lilies for, like, funerals, and people dying in hospitals and shit."

"GILBERT!" _Vater_ and I yelled at the same time.

"What?"

"I-I'm sorry," Feli exclaimed, suddenly looking upset. "Maybe I should've gotten the roses after all—"

"No, please don't worry," I reassured him, glaring at Gilbert. "These are beautiful."

"Oh," he said with relief.

"Still, roses are like for romance and stuff, so do that next time," Gilbert mumbled. I glared at him again as we all sat down.

"Feliciano, isn't it?" _Vater_ said. He shook Feli's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, Mr. Beilschmidt," he said cheerfully.

"You do look familiar," _Vater_ remarked. He peered closely at Feli. "Have we met?"

Feli furrowed his brow. "I . . . don't think so, no . . ."

_Vater_ shrugged and began serving up the sauerkraut. Suddenly he asked, "Feliciano, you wouldn't know a Regulus Vargas, would you?"

Feli's eyes widened a bit and his mouth became very small.

"He was my _nonno_—my grandpa," he said quietly. "He died almost ten years ago."

"Oh—I'm sorry," _Vater_ said quickly. "I know he passed away . . . I'm very sorry. We were good friends; you look just like him."

Feli perked up. "Really?"

_Vater_ nodded. Feli seemed to cheer up a bit and started on the sauerkraut.

"This is really good," he said with his mouth full. "Thank you for having me over!"

I stood and grabbed a vase for the lilies, filling it with water and setting it dead-center on the table.

"They're lovely," _Vater_ remarked. "Feliciano, what do you like to do?"

"I love painting and drawing," Feli said happily.

"He's amazing," I said, jumping in.

"Oh, you're the one who painted that portrait of Ludwig last year?" _Vater_ asked. "I saw it; it's very good."

"Thanks," Feli said, smiling.

* * *

><p>The conversation was kept quiet and polite throughout the evening, aside from the occasional wisecrack Gilbert would make.<p>

"How's about a game of strip poker?" Gilbert asked, pointing to where we kept the cards.

"No," I said, flushing. "Why do you have to think of these kinds of things?"

"Eh, what do you want," he said, shrugging.

"What's strip poker?" Feli asked.

Gilbert laughed and was about to explain when Feli glanced outside and said, "Oh, Eliza's here already . . . I guess stepfather made her come early."

He hesitated. "Ludwig . . . thanks for having me here!"

"It was no trouble," I said quickly, smiling. "Come on, I'll walk you outside."

We went to the front door. As he got his shoes on, he said quietly, "Ludwig, I think you should know . . . stepfather isn't okay with us."

"What?"

"He thinks we're just friends," he said. "A-And he . . ."

He explained the situation. I was at a loss for words.

"S-So, I'm really sorry, but you might not be able to come over much unless stepfather's on a trip," he finished, stumbling over his words and speaking quickly.

"That's okay," I said. "We'll see each other at school. We don't have to tell Mr. Edelstein anything."

He nodded. We hugged and kissed goodbye and he left.

* * *

><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

**Verdammt = Dammit**

**Vater = Father**


	40. The Lute, the Sight, and the Realization

**Narrator: Arthur**

* * *

><p>"Art! Francis is here!"<p>

I looked up from my latest work. "I'll be right back," I said to my friends, who were hovering or sitting around my dresser. I glanced at Hagrid, curled up on my bed, and pointed my wand at him, muttering a quick incantation. I set my wand next to him and hurried downstairs.

Dean walked away as I found Francis waiting for me at the threshold. He looked angry about something and avoided meeting my gaze.

"No offense, but you could text or call before dropping by," I said, moving aside. "Come in."

"I need to talk to you," he muttered. His cheeks were pink.

He slipped off his shoes and followed me upstairs to my room. He was about to speak as I shut the door but got distracted almost immediately. Of course, he didn't see my friends, who were still hovering around my dresser; and the spell on Hagrid worked just as well as last time, for he didn't notice him on my bed again.

"Is that mandolin playing itself?" he asked in amazement. He was about to sit on the chair in the corner when he shot me a suspicious glance.

"Yeah, I wouldn't sit there—I still haven't fixed the wood," I said. He moved to my bed and sat there instead, unknowingly right next to Hagrid, who was thankfully still in the middle of a nap. His kind was heavy sleepers.

"To answer your question, it's a lute, and yes, it's playing itself," I said as the melody began to repeat once more. "I was practicing, but I'm not very good at music, so the best I could do was this song."

It was a simple melody in itself, but it always brought out a twinge of nostalgia.

"What song is it?" Francis asked, still staring at the quivering strings.

"I don't remember the title, but my mother sang it to me when I was little," I muttered, sitting next to him with Hagrid between us. My friends glanced amongst themselves, giggled, and floated or trotted over to Francis. Mari hovered directly in front of his face, peering into his ocean-blue eyes, while Sage flew in circles around him. Rowan bent to examine his shoes with distaste (he didn't have to bend very far), and Fern delicately sniffed his hand.

"It's a very nice song," Francis said, unaware of the magical beings.

"It's gone on long enough," I said. I pointed my wand at the lute and it abruptly stopped, shaking for a moment.

"Oh, good, it didn't explode this time," I murmured in relief.

"What?"

"Nothing." I glanced at him and frowned at my faerie friends. Sage settled on Francis's head and he reached up with a frown.

"Is there something on—?" he stopped and lowered his hand. "Weird . . . thought I felt something for a moment . . ."

I cleared my throat. "Um, I should probably tell you . . ."

I told him about the magical beings up to mischief around him. His eyes widened in amazement and he looked around as if he could suddenly see them.

"You're not messing with me?" he asked wonderingly.

I grinned. He looked cute when he—

. . . Anyway.

"No. In fact, Mari's tugging on your hair."

His eyes flicked to the side to see what must have looked to him like a lock of hair bouncing up and down on its own.

"Hello . . . Marigold," he said hesitantly.

Mari stopped pulling on his hair and exclaimed, "Hi!"

"She says hi. Sage is still on your head." I frowned up at Sage. "Come on, get off."

Sage bounced off of his head and landed on mine instead, making a nest of my hair.

"I didn't mean go on my head," I muttered. "Well, whatever. Rowan doesn't like your shoes."

"These wouldn't last even ten years," Rowan muttered angrily. "What kinds of shoemakers are employed nowadays?"

"I know, I know," I sighed.

Francis glanced at his shoes and back to me, confused.

"Don't worry about it, either of you. Fern—?"

Fern backed away and shook her head.

"Fern's a bit shy," I whispered.

Francis nodded slowly.

"Are you . . . born with the ability to see them?" he asked.

"Wizards are," I said. "Demi-wizards have to work for it. I had to go out into the woods and find a certain elm tree . . ."

"Then he had to walk sunwise around it," Mari piped up, before she remembered that Francis couldn't see or hear her. She crossed her arms and sulked.

"Then I had to walk clockwise around it," I finished, smiling at Mari. "After that it was done. I had the Sight."

"And _then_ we all became friends!" Sage exclaimed, shifting on my head.

"Yes, then we became friends," I said, looking upwards. I looked back at Francis and explained, "I saw them all sitting off to the side from the charm . . . and we started talking."

"That's amazing," Francis said softly. "You lead a really interesting life."

I shrugged.

"Can . . . anyone get the ability like that?"

"Not exactly," I said. "Wizards are born with it, demi-wizards have to work for it, but mortals will never have the Sight. Unless . . ."

"Unless . . . ?"

"I've been told that a mortal with a very strong connection to one with the Sight will be granted the Sight themselves, but with no magical powers otherwise," I explained.

"Oh. Did . . ." he hesitated.

"Spit it out."

"Did . . . your dad . . . ?"

"I don't know," I said abruptly, staring at the floor. "I _assume_ he and my mother were close. Dean was young at the time, but he told me that dad knew about magic. The only thing that might suggest they _weren't_ close . . ."

I sighed. "I asked Dean once if they ever fought. He said they did, once that he could remember. Apparently dad stormed out afterwards and came back in the morning smelling of alcohol. They made up after that, and then he . . . died."

Francis was silent.

"Well, that's what Dean told me," I concluded. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "I thought it might be nice to see what you see."

I watched as Rowan went over to comfort Fern with gentle pets. "Mm."

There was a moment of silence.

"Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly, his expression returning to that of anger. "Don't go distracting me!"

"Distracting—you're the one who was asking all the questions!" I exclaimed. "What are you so angry about, anyway?!"

He stood up and pointed at me for emphasis. "Did you slip me something?!"

"What?"

His cheeks were pink again. "Let me clarify. Did you slip me a—love potion?!"

I blinked in surprise. That was honestly the last thing I had expected.

"I—no," I said. "I'm terrible at making potions, to be honest."

He frowned. "What?"

"Well, they're a lot more complicated than just throwing things in a vat and saying spells," I explained. "You have to get the heating right, the stirring combination has to be on the dot, and one wrongly powdered ingredient or too much or too little of something can cause a disaster."

He blinked.

"And besides," I continued as Mari and Rowan glanced between me and Francis, "love potions aren't really for romantic love. They're more like lust potions, or aphrodisiacs aimed at a specific individual. I've never made one, nor am I inclined to for any reason—I'm sure I'd mess up the strength. In any case, even if I _did_ make a weak one and slip it to you, I'd have to keep giving it to you every day or every other day. I don't see you on weekends, and I rarely have the opportunity to slip you something anyway."

"Oh," he said at last.

I nodded. There was another moment of silence.

"Wait," I said, a thought occurring to me. I looked up at him. "Why do you think I slipped you a potion?"

He flushed. "Uh . . . I . . ."

He looked pretty cute with red—

. . . Anyway.

"If you're suddenly having weird lust cravings for someone, maybe someone _else_ is slipping you a potion," I said, alarmed. "I can try to—"

"Well . . . no, that's—no, that's not it," he muttered. "It's . . . yeah, the physical attraction's there . . . but more recently, so's the mental part. The romantic part."

"This sounds like a complicated potion," I muttered. "I haven't heard of anything that can successfully rouse false romantic feelings so accurately."

Mari and Sage were giggling for some reason. Rowan was smirking and Fern was staring at me curiously.

"No, I don't think it's a potion, based on what you said," Francis mumbled.

"Then a spell?" I pondered. "A curse? No, can't be . . . a jinx or a hex, maybe a charm—no, can't be a charm . . . it must be some kind of jinx. I'll start looking for a counterjinx."

"Will you get your head out of the magic ideas?!"

I looked up at Francis, whose cheeks were still flushed. He still looked cute w—_anyway . . . !_

"It's not magic," he said. "I got paranoid and thought it was your fault. It's real love, or, y'know—a crush."

"Oh! Oh, thank goodness," I said with relief. "I was so worried, I'd never heard of a jinx like _that_, and they usually don't last very long anyway, I don't know _who_ would've been doing it in the first place—"

I paused and took a breath. "Okay, so why'd you think it was my fault?"

He stared at me. "Goddammit, Arthur, who do you think I'm attracted to?!"

"What?"

Suddenly it clicked into place. I felt my face grow hot.

"Oh."

Francis nodded. The reason for Mari and Sage giggling became clear and I glared at them.

"I mean, um—" Francis looked down. "That's it. I confessed. So . . . what're you gonna say?"

I cleared my throat.

"Don't be shy," Mari whispered. "You've been blushing on and off ever since he came here."

I glared at her and she smirked in response. That cheeky brat . . .

I took a deep breath. Francis seemed to be deflating with every passing second.

"Next Saturday?"

"What?" He asked, looking up.

"For . . . a date," I mumbled. "We can . . . go on a walk. Or something. God, I'm sorry, I'm no good at this—"

I broke off as Francis leapt forward and hugged me.

"You're fine," he mumbled. I could hear the smile in his voice. "Saturday it is."


	41. The Admittance, the Talk, and the Stairs

**Mid-April, week after spring break**

* * *

><p>"Sup, Feli," Al said as I walked into class. "How was your break?"<p>

"It was okay," I said, dropping my backpack on the floor. "How was yours? Did you see Mei?"

He frowned. "No, and it's weird, right? 'Cause I haven't seen her at school for like a _month_, ever since the last time she came over, and she hasn't responded to any texts or calls or anything, and I'm pretty sure she's ignoring me but I dunno what I did wrong."

I shrugged. "Maybe she's been really busy."

"Yeah, maybe," he sighed. "Oh, Mei, how I miss you!"

"I miss seeing her too," I said.

"I'll try texting later," Al said.

"My spring break was fine, thanks for asking," Francis said sarcastically.

"Wasn't gonna ask, dude, but cool," Al said. "So have you and Artie started, like, full-on making out, or are you dorks too shy to do anything but hold hands?"

"What?!" Francis exclaimed, his face turning pink. "How did you know we were going out?!"

"You weren't exactly hiding it, and _no one_ in our group can keep that kind of stuff secret for long," Al pointed out.

I nodded. "You guys kept looking at each other like _that_."

". . . We haven't kissed yet, not that it's any of your business," Francis muttered.

Al snickered. "Artie's such a loser. I dunno what you see in him."

Francis opened his mouth, but Al held up a hand. "No, that wasn't an invitation, I don't really wanna know."

"He's a very interesting person," Francis said quietly.

"He reads a lot," I remarked.

"Yeah, he's such a nerd," Al said. "Doesn't your bro like reading too?"

"Lovi? Yeah, _fratello_ likes to read nowadays," I said, remembering when I'd run into him at the library that one time.

"So they're both nerds," Al said.

"Everyone likes to read sometimes, that doesn't always make them a nerd," Francis pointed out.

"You'd know all about that . . . _nerd_," Al said.

"That doesn't follow."

"You don't follow."

"What am I not following?!"

"My train of thought."

"Clearly!"

Al sighed. "You're nerds. You and Artie and Lovino."

"Sure, whatever," Francis sighed. "Feli, I meant to ask earlier—how'd your stepfather take you and Ludwig?"

"He . . ." I hesitated. "He misunderstood the whole thing . . . and he still doesn't know. It's probably better to keep it that way."

"Wow, that's lucky," Al commented.

"Oh, and Ludwig's dad knew my grandpa," I remembered. "He said they were good friends."

"What, like friends with benefits?" Al asked.

"Alfred!" Francis hissed.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Never mind, don't worry about it," Al said quickly. "And now you and Ludwig are a thing . . . I guess Ms. Burton was right, history _does_ repeat itself."

"Pretty sure that's not what she meant," Francis muttered.

"Doesn't have to be just wars and stuff, dude, it can be little things like this," Al argued. "Like, I dunno, kids going the same way as their parents, or—"

My breath caught in my throat and I felt like I couldn't talk. Al paused and looked at me and Francis—Francis had a kind of frozen expression on his face and I thought mine must have been the same.

"Uh—sorry," Al said quickly. "Sorry."

I still felt like I couldn't talk, so I started going through my backpack to find my homework from last night. Francis stared down at his desk and the room was weirdly quiet.

* * *

><p>"Mei!"<p>

Everyone looked up at Al's shout. Mei was coming towards our table and she looked really so—serious.

"Alfred, can I talk to you for a bit?" she asked quietly.

"Go for it," he said, looking up at her expectantly.

She crossed her arms exasperatedly.

"Oh, you meant alone," he said. "Brb, guys."

"I told you not to talk like that!" Gil exclaimed.

"Also, Francis admitted it this morning," he called over his shoulder as he followed Mei somewhere.

Everyone turned to look at Francis.

"Awesome, I can officially congratulate you guys," Toni said cheerfully. "Congrats!"

"Mm, whatever," Lovi muttered, yawning.

"So, like, are you guys full-on making out, or are you too shy to do anything but hold hands?" Gil asked.

Artie's face turned red and Francis scowled. "Alfred asked exactly the same thing. Are you two conspiring?"

"It's none of your business what we've done," Artie snapped. "Why does everyone have to be so _nosy_?"

Al and Mei came back. They weren't really looking at each other. Al looked kinda sad or mad or something and Mei looked sad.

"So . . ." Gil said expectantly.

"_So_, how was your break?" Al asked.

* * *

><p>"Spill, Alfie."<p>

Al sighed. "Fine."

He, me, and Gil were in computer graphics. Gil blinked. "Wow, you cave fast."

"Mei broke up with me."

"Oh. That sucks."

"She said she didn't want to, though, and it's 'cause of her stupid dad," Al muttered angrily. "And I'm not allowed to text or call her anymore 'cause he's been checking her phone and he'll find out if she replies to anything I said."

"Wow, he must be really strict," I commented.

Gil frowned. "That's _way_ not cool. Oh, been meaning to say . . ."

"Yeah?"

"I've noticed Arthur and Toni looking kinda weird at Mei, today and from before she skipped out a month," Gil said. "Not like, checking her out or anything, just like they're trying to figure something out or they've noticed something."

Al frowned. "Like what?"

"I don't fucking know, I'm just telling you what they're doing," Gil said impatiently. "You should ask them about it."

"Yeah, I will," Al said determinedly.

"Did she say why she was gone for a month?" I asked curiously.

"Right, she said it was kind of a combo of her dad not wanting her to see me and she hurt herself tripping on the stairs." Al sighed. "She seems fine now, but she's gotta be more careful on the stairs."

"Stairs can be dangerous," Gil said wisely.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

**Fratello = Brother**


	42. The Classes, the Shorts, and the Skirts

**Early May**

* * *

><p>"Thank god, only a month of school left," Lovi muttered. He and I were in English and it was mid-May.<p>

"Yeah, we get to relax over the summer," I said happily.

Lovi sighed dramatically. "Well, Toni and I are gonna have to take jobs again."

"Are you guys still saving up for a bed?"

"No—no, we don't need another bed anymore," he muttered. "But we're thinking about getting a table in the fall."

"Oh, I see," I said.

* * *

><p>Lunchtime came around. I glanced at Mei. She looked okay. I remembered a few weeks ago, Al had told me that Artie and Toni had talked to Mei about something, and things were being worked out, or something like that.<p>

"So, like, we're all gonna be seniors next year," Gil said. "I mean, unless anyone's being held back . . . ?"

"You're the one most likely to be held back," Artie said. "Besides Alfred."

"Hey, my grades are okay," Al protested.

"So are mine," Gil muttered. "Anyway, I hear senior year's super hard."

"Really? I heard it was really easy," Francis said.

"Whatever. Last year of high school next year, guys! We're almost done with hell!" Gil pumped his fist in the air.

"It's not _that_ bad," Artie muttered.

"It totally is, Artie, where have you been?" Al demanded.

"It's pretty hard," Matt said quietly.

"Especially with hardass teachers like Ms. Burton," Lovi muttered.

"Yeah, fuck Ms. Burton," Gil said. "Someone tell her to lighten up. Here's hoping she retires next year."

"She's like, what, 30-something?" Ludwig said. "I don't think she'll retire anytime soon."

"I'm not taking math next year," I said. "I like Mr. Laurinaitis but the class is too hard."

"It's gonna be harder next year," Ludwig agreed.

"Mei, what're your plans?" Toni asked.

Mei shrugged. "Usual, I guess . . . calculus, chemistry, gym . . ."

"Speaking of gym, what do you think about those short-shorts they make the girls wear?" Al asked thoughtfully.

"Short-shorts?" Kiku asked. "The girls' gym shorts?"

"Yeah."

"The schools in Japan with uniforms have shorts just like those for girls," Kiku said. "What's wrong with them?"

"Well, they're kinda sexist, aren't they?" Matt asked.

Kiku looked at him curiously.

"What he means is," Gil said, "the guys don't get to wear such cute shorts, and it's not fair. So either everyone should have shorts all the way down the thigh, or cute shorts that show off your butt, like the ones the girls have right now."

"I don't mind wearing them, but it'd be nice if the guys had them too," Mei admitted.

Kiku nodded in understanding.

"Oh, that reminds me," I said. "Isn't it unfair that only the girls get to pick between having slacks or skirts for their uniforms? Shouldn't the guys get to pick too? What if I want to wear a skirt?"

Ludwig's face turned red and the others looked thoughtful.

"Feli, come on, I keep telling you not to do shit like that," Lovi groaned.

"Why not?"

"Yeah, why not?" Gil asked. "Hell, maybe we should all wear skirts next year to protest that. Artie, can you write a letter to the principal or something?"

"Actually, what do you guys think about the uniforms in general?" Al asked. "Sometimes you wanna wear your own thing, yeah?"

"I dunno, it saves time in the morning," Francis said. "I have an _excellent_ sense of fashion and sometimes I'd like to show it off . . ."

"Yeah, you big showoff," Artie muttered under his breath, grinning. Francis tapped his head hard and continued, "But these uniforms look okay—blue looks good on everyone—and besides, you're allowed to accessorize."

"And this way, no one can make fun of your clothes, 'cause we're all wearing the same thing," Matt added.

"And it saves on clothes you wash," Lovi said.

"Plus we can wear whatever on the weekend if we're hanging or on a date or whatever," Al said.

"Gil, I'm not writing a letter to the principal," Artie said.

Gil blinked. "Uh, dude, I said that like an hour ago."

"It was about two minutes."

"Same thing."

* * *

><p><strong>Cute shorts that show off your butt are very important. I vote for them to be mandatory in the summer.<strong>


	43. The Drama, the Project, and the Colors

**This chapter and the next one in late May (same day)**

* * *

><p>"Ugh, god, can this year just <em>end<em>?" Al moaned dramatically, slumping against the dead heater in the classroom.

"It's so hot outside," I complained, slumping next to him. "Maybe they'll let us go early . . ."

"They won't," Francis said from his desk, watching us. "Stop being so dramatic, you two, we've only got a couple weeks left."

We groaned.

* * *

><p>Ms. Burton was lecturing us on not falling behind on work just because it was the end of the school year. I mean, I <em>think<em> that's what she was saying . . . I wasn't really listening and just doodling on my paper.

". . . And it's due two days before school's out," she was saying when I finally started listening.

"Wait, what?" I blurted out.

"That's plenty of time," she said, looking at me sternly.

I didn't really want to admit I hadn't been paying attention, so I didn't say anything.

* * *

><p>"Lovi, what's due two days before school ends?" I asked as I sat down in English.<p>

"That research project thing?" Lovi said. "What about it?"

"Research?" I asked.

He groaned. "Were you not paying attention again?"

"I wasn't."

"Feliciano, for god's sake . . ."

Eventually he explained what the project was.

* * *

><p>"Oh, I remembered what I was gonna say," I exclaimed at lunch.<p>

Everyone looked at me.

"You . . . didn't say anything about forgetting to say something before . . . but go on," Artie said.

"Okay," I said. "So, like, we're all gonna go to different colleges and stuff, right? And maybe some of us aren't gonna go to college, but we'll all be separated mostly, right?"

"Yeah, that's gonna suck, what's your point?" Al asked.

"I was thinking," I said, "next year in art class—maybe I can paint pictures of all of us!"

"Go on," Francis said, apparently intrigued.

"I—I could give you all your own portrait," I said, stumbling on my words, "and maybe make copies of the others as something to remember us all by?"

"Yes," Gil said. "I mean, that sounds awesome. Go for it, Feli."

"You already painted a picture of me in 10th grade," Ludwig pointed out.

"Yeah, but I can do better," I insisted.

"Well—okay then," he said.

"When're you gonna find time to do that?" Toni asked.

I shrugged. "I guess I can stay after school? I want them to be really good, so it might take all year . . ."

"Would we have to, like, stay after with you to model?" Lovi asked.

"I can take pictures or something," I said. "That'd be easier anyway instead of making you guys sit still for so long . . ."

"Yeah, I can't sit still for very long," Al said cheerfully.

"Trust me, we know," Mei murmured.

"Painting—what, twelve—no—are you painting yourself?" Matt asked.

"I guess I will eventually," I said.

"Painting twelve people sounds like a lot of work . . ." he finished. "You'd need different colors for skin tones and eyes and hair and everything . . ."

"Well, it wouldn't be that much work," I said. "Some of us are siblings, so they'd have the same skin tone, so I'd only need . . ." I counted. "Nine different colors for that . . . same with hair color, that would mean . . . ten different colors . . . and eye colors would be, uh . . ." I frowned as I counted, and counted again. "Herc? Artie? Can you guys stand next to each other for a sec?"

They stood up side-by-side. I got up and examined their faces closely.

"Huh," I said in surprise. "Okay, you can sit back down. Anyway, for eye color I'd need . . . nine different colors."

"What was that about?" Artie said.

I shrugged. "Just checking something."


	44. The Ride, the Question, and the Answer

For some reason Mr. Hobson made us run around the track even though it was hot outside. After a couple laps, I gave up and lay in the grass.

"Feli, are you okay?" Ludwig asked, stopping and kneeling by me. "Do you need some water?"

"No," I said. "Well—actually, I'm kinda thirsty—but it's the end of the year . . . I'm already getting a C in this class . . . and I'm really tired."

He sighed. "Get some water when we're back inside. In the meantime . . . I'm not going to let you lie around in the grass like this."

"Can't make me run," I said, rolling onto my back and closing my eyes.

"I'm not going to," he said. "Sit up."

He turned so his back was facing me. "Climb on."

"What?"

"Get on my back."

I climbed on and he stood up with me on his back.

"Hold on."

He started jogging again. A lot of people in the class were laughing but I didn't care. Ludwig's back was really warm . . . I could feel the muscles underneath.

"Am I too heavy?" I asked.

"No, it's fine," he said. We passed by Mr. Hobson. He glanced up, opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head, and wrote something on his clipboard.

"You're so strong," I sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "Thanks for not making me run . . ."

"Anytime," he muttered, keeping his pace around the track.

When we made it back to the locker room, I got off his back and he sat down heavily onto the bench.

"You okay?" I asked, sitting next to him.

"I'm fine," he said. "I'm just not used to jogging with extra weight." He smiled.

I hugged him. "That was fun. Thanks."

* * *

><p>"Hey, Feli," Gil said as I sat down. "Who do you think is the gayest of all of us?"<p>

"Most of us are boys with boyfriends," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but who's the _gayest_," Al emphasized.

"We don't even know everyone's sexuality," Gil said. "Like, I'm bi, Mattie told me he's not into chicks, I'm like 90% sure _you're_ at least 95% straight, Alfie—"

"Make that 100%," Al said. "Feli, what about you?"

"I'm bi, but I like looking at girls more than the thought of dating a girl," I said after a moment. "And Ludwig liked me back when he thought I was a girl, so . . . bi, or pan . . . ?"

Gil snickered. "I'm never gonna get over that."

"Francis told us he's pan," Al said. "Artie's never been into chicks as far as I know, but then it _did_ take a while for him and Francis to get together . . . I'm gonna say gay."

"Lovi's probably bi, since he's talked about girls but he's dating Toni," I said slowly.

"Yeah, how're they doing?" Al asked.

"I think they're fine," I said. "Lovi doesn't tell me a lot."

"What about Mei?" Gil asked Al.

Al shrugged. "Dunno. She never mentioned it. I'll ask her if the topic comes up—I don't wanna just be all out of the blue with, 'Hey, so, do you only like guys, or guys and girls, or . . .'"

"I deem Herc and Kiku mysteries," Gil declared. "They're so quiet, it's hard to tell _anything_."

"They're really perfect for each other that way," Al said thoughtfully. "I mean, Herc tends to talk slowly, and English is Kiku's second language, so it's easy to understand with Herc."

"Yeah, unlike _you_, whose words have the speed of a train," Gil said.

"Not always," Al muttered.

"Toni's bi, he's mentioned it before," I said.

"Which brings us back to our original question: Who is the gayest?" Al asked.

Gil looked up in thought. "Ludwig."

"Oh, that reminds me," I said. I told them about what happened in gym.

". . . Definitely Ludwig."

"Yeah."

* * *

><p><strong>I have everyone's sexual <em>and<em> romantic orientation for this story written down, so if you're curious, feel free to ask and I'll be happy to tell you...**


	45. The Cheer, the Cake, and the Farewells

"Last day, dude! LAST DAY!"

Francis covered his ears. "And you insist on being noisy to the end."

Al grinned as we high-fived. "Yeah!"

"Summer plans?" I asked him.

"Dunno," he said. "I mean . . ." he sighed. "I hope I get to see Mei . . . but I dunno how that whole thing's working out with her dad, so who knows?"

"She's okay, right?" Francis asked.

"Yeah?" Al said. "I think so? She hasn't said anything, so I can only assume."

"That's what you always do."

"Anyway, Feli," Al said, "I have a solution for your prick stepdad."

"I don't think painting me and Ludwig holding hands naked is a good idea," I said quickly.

"No, not that—but that's still on the table if you decide to do it," he said. Francis snickered. "How about you bake him a cake and write in frosting on the top 'I'm gay for Ludwig'?"

Francis and I stared at him.

"A rainbow cake."

"I don't think it's that easy," I said quietly.

Al shrugged. "That's what I would do. Go out, buy a mix, get some frosting . . . or hell, I'd just buy one from the store bakery."

Francis sighed.

"Hey, speaking of which, are your parents okay with you being pan?" Al asked Francis. "Sorry if that's rude, just wondering."

Francis averted his gaze. "_Maman_'s—fine with it."

It seemed a little weird the way he said it.

"Oh, cool," Al said, grinning. "And your dad?"

"He's dead."

Al and I stared at him. He stared at his desk.

"Oh," Al said. "Sorry . . ."

"What about your parents?" I asked Al.

"They're totally cool with Mattie," he said, glancing at Francis. "They like Gil for some weird reason, so everything's fine on that front."

"Oh, that's good," I said. Francis was still staring at his desk.

* * *

><p>"See you next year!" Al called as he left for his bus with Matt, who said, "Bye, Feli . . ."<p>

I waved bye.

"Hey, Feli," Artie said, coming up behind me and making me jump. "Have a good summer. See you in a few months?"

He held out his hand and I awkwardly shook it goodbye. He got on his bus.

"See you, Feliciano," Lovi called.

"Bye, Feli!" Toni called. I waved bye as they rode away on their bikes.

"Feli, I'll see you this summer," Ludwig said. We hugged and kissed.

Gil cleared his throat. "And so Ludwig asked the magic mirror, 'Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the gayest of them all?' And the mirror replied, 'Many gays I see in this land, my lord, but none are gayer than thee . . .'"

"Excuse me?" Ludwig said.

"Nothing. Let's go! Bye Feli!"

"Gilbert, what was that about?"

"Nothing!"

I turned and started heading home, walking with Herc and Kiku. We were all pretty quiet until it was time to split up.

"Have a great summer, guys," I said, smiling.

"You too," Herc said sleepily.

"Have a good summer," Kiku echoed, bowing his head. He and Herc went on their way and I turned to go home for the summer at last.

* * *

><p><strong>Translation:<strong>

**Maman = Mom**


	46. The Buzzkill, the Call, and the Nap

**LINK TO FINAL STORY BELOW!**

**Narrators in order: Alfred, Mei, Kiku**

* * *

><p>"Mattie, come on, let's go out for ice cream or something!" I poked him impatiently. "Let's go!"<p>

He sighed. Wow, he didn't have to be so _dramatic_, geez. "Al, I'm tired . . . just let me rest for an hour, okay . . . ?"

I sighed. Jesus Christ, he was such a buzzkill. I informed him of this and he rolled his eyes.

My phone buzzed (hey, it's funny 'cause I just said "buzzkill," and now my phone's _buzzing_, right?), and I looked at it.

"Oh, it's from Mei!" I yelled happily. I opened up the text and read it. I frowned. Huh, that was weird.

Mattie totally asked me what it said. I swear he did. Anyway, I read it aloud. "She says, 'I'm in trouble, but I'll be okay. I'm getting help. Don't worry. Don't text back or call.'"

"What's that about?" Mattie asked.

I shrugged. "I hope she's okay. God, if someone hurt her, I will beat the shit out of them, no questions asked . . ."

* * *

><p>I sat on my bed, trying to stop crying. Dad had hit me again, saying I'd been talking to Al. I <em>had<em>, of course, but it was just _talking_!

_. . . Call one of us next time you're in trouble. We'll get help._

I gulped, reached for my phone, and texted Al first, letting him know I was gonna be okay.

I felt the bruise forming on my face and slowly dialed the number I'd been given.

"Arthur . . . ? It's me. It happened again."

There was a moment of silence before he said, "Okay. Stay put. I'm on it."

I nodded, forgetting he couldn't see me.

"You're gonna be fine."

I started crying again.

* * *

><p>"Eleventh grade was fun," I said quietly. I was sitting with Hercules on his porch swing.<p>

He nodded sleepily. "Next year . . . will be busy . . . but fun, too . . ."

I nodded.

"Kiku . . . sorry, but . . . I . . ."

I looked over and saw him falling asleep. He fell to the side and landed on me, sleeping.

I couldn't figure out how to get him off without hurting him, so I let him stay on my legs.

He was very warm.

* * *

><p>~Fin~<p>

* * *

><p><strong>And this story ends just like the last one did: Three narrators in the final chapter, and it's 46 chapters long. I guess history does repeat itself ;)<strong>

**Story's done! Thank you for all your support, everyone~!**

**FINAL STORY: /s/11362835/1/The-Italian-the-Good-and-the-Bad**


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